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FciZ.SS  A!5i..: 

L\'5/.v-bS' 

-:iwiTii7TTrrrrrj7r."hr,i,i,TTTrri.ii'i 


TS    FROM 


ions  of  the  Libfaff 


-DLBSSX  MBCHANIGS'  ASSOCIATION. 


.abrary  shall  be  opened  for  the  delivery  and  ret 
on  each  day  of  the  week,  Sundays  excepted,  fi 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  2  to  5  o'clock,  P.  M.,  7  to  9  o'clc 
om   April  1st  to  October  1st;  and  from  6  1-2 
{,  P.  M.,  from   October    1st   to    April    1st,    exc 
ly  evenings,  when  the  Library  shall  be  closed, 
fiall  also  be  closed  on  all  legal  holidays, 
/ooks  shall  be  returned  to  the  Library  on  the  sec 
lay  preceding  the  first  Tuesday  in  April,  and  ren 
after  the  annual  meeting;  and  any  person  then  ha^ 
,r  more  books,  and  neglecting  to  return  the  sam( 
M  required,  shall  forfeit  and  pay  a  fine  of  twenty 

my  member  lose  or  materially  injure  a  book,  he  i 
.h  another  copy  of  equal  value,  in  good  condition, 
e  same  or  later  edition,  or  pay  the  appraised  vali 
option.  If  the  book  so  lost  or  injured  be  part  ^ of  j 
hall  replace  or  pay  for  the  entire  set,  and  may  there 
ive  the  remaining  volumes  as  his  property. 
0  member  shall  lend  a  book  belonging  to  this  Associ 
ny  person  out  of  the  dwelling  house  of  said  membe 
penalty  of  one  dollar. 

^"  member  may  appeal  to  the  Directors  of  the  L: 
_ wading  Room,  from  the  appraisement  of  the  Lib 
irded  airainst  him. 


liT^^ 


'i^ 
i^^ 


This  Book  may  be  kept  out 

Tff^O  fFEEKS 


u 


COMMISSION 


APPOINTED  BY 


H.  E.  THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION 


TO  EXAiinsrE  THE  KESULTS  OBTAINED  BY  THE 


CAYE    METHOD. 


MEMBERS  OF  THE  COMMISSION. 

President :  M.  Bouland,  Director-General. 
Vice-President :  M.  Fillet,  Chief  of  Division  in  the  Ministry 
of  Public  Instruction. 

HISTORICAL  PAINTERS, 

M.  Eugene  Delacroix,  Member  of  the  Institute. 
M.  PicoT,  Member  of  the  Institute. 

M.  Belloc,  Director  of  the  Imperial  Special  School   of 
Drawing. 


M.  Landois,  Inspector  of  the  Paris  Academy. 
M.  BoiLAT,  Councillor  of  State. 
M.  EiTT,  Inspector-General  of  Primary  Instruction. 
M.  Rendu,  Inspector-General  of  Instruction. 
M.  Due,  Architect. 


M.  Delacroix  appointed  to  Report. 


THE\aAYE  METHOD   OF  DRAWING,— FOB 

STUDENTS— SECOND  PART,  y 


C  O  L  O  E. 


MADAME    MARIE    ]fiLISABETH  N^AYlg, 

MEMBER  OF  THE  ACADEMY  OF  PINE    ARTS  OF  AMSE^DAM. 


7 


APPROVED  BY  M.  EUGENE  DELACROIX,  FOR  TEACHHSTG 
PAINTING  IN  OILS  AND  WATER-COLORS. 


To  See^  to  Understand,  to  Remember,  is  to  Know.— Rubens. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  THIRD  FRENCH  EDmON. 


NEW  YORK: 

G.  P.  PUTNAM  &  SON,  661    BROADWAY, 

1869. 


425 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

G.    P.    PUTNAM    &    SON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Oflace  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


55  v5. 


STEREOTYPED  BT 

DEXNIS    BRO'S   &    CO., 

AUBURN,  N.  T. 


PRESS  OF  THB 

NEW  YORK  PRINTING  COMPANY, 

CENTRE  STREET,  N.  T. 


KEPOKT  OF  M.  DELACEOIX. 


Mr.  Minister:— 

The  Commission  nominated  by  Your  Excellency  to  give 
its  opinion  upon  the  method  of  Madame  Cave,  and  upon  the 
question  as  to  whether  that  method  can  be  introduced  into  the 
schools,  has  the  honor  of  presenting  to  Your  Excellency  the 
results  of  the  examination  that  it  has  made. 

The  uncertain  rate  of  progress  in  teaching  drawing,  the 
want  of  fixed  principles  that  has  prevailed  in  the  instruction 
of  it  up  to  this  day,  even  from  remote  ages,  have  long  since 
rendered  it  desirable  to  have  a  method  surer  in  its  results,  and 
capable  of  being  applied  by  all  teachers  alike. 

Anything  like  demonstration  is  impossible  by  the  ordinary 
methods  of  instruction :  the  different  ways  in  which  the  mas- 
ters may  regard  the  instruction  and  the  art  itself  become  the 
rule — a  very  variable  one,  as  we  can  imagine — that  governs 
the  schools.  Even  admitting  that  these  ditferent  roads  can 
lead  to  an  almost  common  result,  that  is  to  say,  to  a  satisfac- 
tory knowledge  of  drawing,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  important 
the  functions  of  the  master  become,  and  how  necessary  it  is 
that  his  special  talents  should  qualify  him  for  guiding  the 
pupils  in  the  midst  of  the  uncertainty  of  the  rules. 

The  first  difficulty  in  such  a  method  of  instruction  con- 
sists, then,  in  finding  a  sufficiently  large  number  of  teachers 
endowed  with  indispensable  talents,  and  resigned  to  the  exer- 
cise of  functions  that  are,  of  course,  poorly  recompensed. 

The  second,  and  perhaps  the  most  insurmountable  diffi- 
culty, consists  in  the  impossibility  of  procuring  good  models. 
Those  that  are  met  with  in  the  schools,  produced  in  all  the 
successive  styles,  chosen  hap-hazard,  devoid  of  correctness  or 
expression,  can  only  vitiate  the  pupil's  taste,  and  render  the 
best  guidance  almost  useless. 

Your  Excellency's  predecessor,  M.  Fortoul,  like  all  judi- 
cious minds,  had  been  struck  with  such  a  deplorable  defi- 
ciency. Aware  of  the  novel  results  obtained  by  Madame 
Cave's  method,  he  had  nominated,  to  examine  into  the  pro- 
cess, a  Commission,  the  majority  of  which  did  not  declare 


VI  REPORT    OF   M.    DELACROIX. 


themselves  in  favor  of  its  adoption,  but  without  approving 
the  old  method  of  instruction,  the  inconveniences  of  which 
had  been  almost  unanimously  recognized.  The  use  of  the 
tracing-copy,  introduced  by  Madame  Cave  into  her  method, 
seemed  especially  to  arouse  the  scruples  of  the  Commission, 
and  it  was  impossible  for  the  greater  part  of  its  members  to 
recognize  in  it  anything  more  than  the  mechanical  repetition 
of  the  models,  almost  wholly  devoid  of  all  intelligent  and 
rational  imitation. 

Fresh  successes  of  the  Cave  method  have  awakened  the 
solicitude  of  Your  Excellency.  It  seems  to  yon,  to-day,  that 
in  view  of  satisfactory  and  permanent  results,  the  processes 
employed  for  obtaining  them  might  not  have  been  suflQciently 
understood.  There  is  occasion,  then,  for  reverting  to  so  in- 
teresting a  question,  and,  in  order  to  give  additional  light  to 
the  Commission  appointed  for  this  purpose,  it  has  been  de- 
cided that  the  elements  of  the  method  should  be  presented 
to  them  and  expounded  by  some  person  habituated  to  their 
use.  M.  d'Austrive,  professor  of  drawing  according  to  the 
Cave  method,  has  been  charged  with  this,  and,  thanks  to  the 
experience  thus  obtained,  it  has  become  easy  to  dehver  an 
opinion  upon  the  method  with  full  knowledge  of  its  advan- 
tages and  its  drawbacks. 

The  principal  difference  between  the  method  and  its  pre- 
decessor consists  in  tliis :  that  it  is  first  of  all  necessary  to 
train  the  eye,  by  giving  it  some  sure  means  of  correcting  its 
mistakes  in  the  estimates  of  lengths  and  foreshortenings. 

A  transparent  tracing-copy  {calgue)  is  put  into  the  pupil's 
hands,  so  that  by  applying  it  from  time  to  time  to  his  draw- 
ing, he  can  himself  recognize  his  faults  and  correct  them. 
This  incessant  correction  does  not  enable  him  to  dispense 
with  the  attention  that  he  must  give  to  the  original.  After 
several  attempts  have  shown  him  to  what  extent  his  eye  has 
been  capable  of  deceiving  him,  he  redoubles  his  care  to 
avoid  mistakes  that  reveal  themselves  to  him  with  a  degree 
of  evidence  that  could  never  be  attained  by  the  mere  coun- 
sels of  a  master.  His  attention  is  furthermore  kept  up  by 
the  necessity  in  which  he  is  placed  of  repeating  from 
memory  this  first  attempt  thus  corrected. 

This  second  operation,  in  which  the  pupil  seeks  to  recall 
the  absent  model,  by  drawing  from  memory  his  first  attempt, 
has  for  its  object  to  engrave  still  more  deeply  in  his  mind 
the  relations  of  the  lines  to  one  another,  and  when,  by  a 
third  operation,  he  has  to  copy  the  model  again,  this  time 


REPORT    OP   M.    DELACEOIX.  YU 


without  tlie  aid  of  the  verifying  trace  copy,  we  feel  that  he 
must  bring  to  this  last  task  a  more  intelligent  power  of  imi- 
tation. 

It  has  been  observed,  in  fact,  in  the  attempts  submitted  to 
the  inspection  of  the  Commission,  thkt  this  third  draught  ordi- 
naril}^  presented  traces  of  a  lively  feeling,  and  one  less  re- 
strained by  the  necessity  of  the  precision  to  which  the  pupil 
had  been  forced  in  his  drawing,  executed  by  the  aid  of  the 
verifying  trace-copy. 

The  entire  method  consists  in  these  three  successive 
operations,  whicli  are  applied  equally  to  drawing  from  the 
relief  and  to  the  demarcation  of  shadows.  The  pupil  thus 
acquires,  and  by  very  simple  means,  a  very  accurate  apprecia- 
tion of  the  laws  of  perspective  in  the  human  form,  where  we 
know  that  they  are  much  more  difficult,  even  impossible  to 
realize  in  a  mathematical  manner  by  the  means  that  the 
former  methods  have  employed. 

It  seems  unnecessary  to  enter  into  the  details  of  the  exer- 
cises that  have  for  their  final  object  to  familiarize  the  pupil 
with  handling  the  crayon,  and  obtaining  lightness  of  hand, 
together  with  accuracy  of  eye.  It  will  suffice  to  declare,  in 
favor  of  this  method,  that  not  only  can  it  be  taught  more 
practically  than  any  other,  but  that  it  has  a  reliable  starting- 
point,  such  as  no  other  can  offer. 

It  is  in  point  to  speak  of  the  influence  that  the  models  are 
destined  to  exercise  upon  the  progress  of  the  pupils.  These 
models  are  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  most  beautiful 
specimens  of  the  drawings  of  the  great  masters,  or  engrav- 
ings from  their  pictures.  With  regard  to  those  taken  from 
antiques,  they  are  drawn  from  the  reliefs,  by  means  of  glass 
or  transparent  gauze,  which  offers,  as  objects  of  study,  only 
figures  traced  with  an  exactitude  of  rigorous  perspective. 

The  question  relative  to  the  choice  of  teachers  is  not  less 
worthy  of  attention.  The  trace-copy,  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  pupil  and  designed  to  give  him  complete  certainty  as  to 
the  accuracy  of  his  copy,  renders  the  teacher's  task  infinitely 
more  easy.  Persons  of  second-rate  talent,  but  merely  fa- 
miliar with  the  processes  of  the  method,  can  become  very 
good  teachers.  Even  pupils  can  be  substituted  when  they 
have  reached  a  certain  degree  of  facility  in  imitating  the 
models. 

We  have  seen  this  performed  in  the  primary  schools, 
where  the  method  has  been  applied,  and  where  the  drawings 
have    seemed  very  remarkable.      The    directors    of    these 


VIU  KEPOET    OF   M.    DELACROIX. 

schools  had  no  knowledge  of  drawing.  It  is  enough  to  say- 
that  the  same  would  be  the  case  in  all  the  communes,  where 
it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  have  a  teacher.  'We  can 
therefore  judge  that  the  same  principles,  followed  up  in  their 
development  by  experienced  masters,  would  yield  still  more 
satisfactory  results.  Instruction  in  drawing,  thanks  to  this 
new  process,  would  gain  in  greater  utility  from  an  industrial 
point  of  view.  It  is  known  how  many  professions  are  based 
upon  drawing.  To  extend  the  means  of  instruction  in  this 
direction  is,  then,  to  render  a  real  service  to  the  working 
classes.  The  models,  which  can  be  easily  multiplied  by  all 
sorts  of  objects  taken  from  nature,  would  augment  the  num- 
ber of  designs  employed  in  ornamental  work,  in  stuffs,  in 
decorations  of  every  kind,  and  would  offer  a  variety  and  pu- 
rity of  form  that  would  rescue  industry  and  the  arts  from  the 
triviality  of  conventional  types,  that  tend  to  bring  about  their 
decay. 

Such  are  the  considerations  resulting  from  the  examina- 
tions of  Madame  Cave's  method. 

The  Commission  has  judged  the  principles  of  it  to  be  use- 
ful, and  has  the  honor  of  recommending  them  to  Your  Ex- 
cellency. 

M.  Delacroix. 


This  report  was  approved  and  signed  unanimously  at  the 
meeting  held  the  second  of  December,  1861. 

By  a  decree  dated  February  19th,  1862,  His  Excellency, 
the  minister  of  Public  Instruction,  upon  the  report  of  the 
Commission,  authorized  the  rectors  of  the  academies  of 
Douai  and  Caen  to  apply  the  Cave  method  in  the  normal 
schools  of  their  jurisdiction. 

M.  Doudiet  d'Austrive,  professor  of  the  Cave  method, 
was  charged  with  explaining  and  carrying  out  the  method 
in  the  above-named  schools. 


CAYE'S  MANUAL  OF  COLOR. 


rmST   LETTER 

ANTIQUES  — GEE  AT   MASTERS. 


You  answered  M.  de  C perfectly,  my  dear  Julia,  when 

you  told  him  that  it  was  intentional,  my  not  recommending 
above  all  to  my  pupils  the  study  of  antiques,  of  Raphael  and 
the  great  masters  who  have  followed  him. 

I  should  take  good  care  not  to.  Just  as  I  do  not  make  use 
of  other  persons'  glasses,  so  I  have  instructed  your  daughters 
according  to  my  own  observations.  If  the  result  is  good, 
why  trouble  yourself  about  the  criticisms  of  the  classical 
professors?  Have  they  any  scholars  who  can,  like  mine, 
after  a  year's  study,  draw  from  memory  a  Raphael,  aWatteau, 
or  any  other  master,  beyond  the  possibility  of  being  mis- 
taken? Certainly  not.  Then  I  am  right  in  making  them 
acquainted  with  the  masters  before  talking  to  them  about 
them. 

It  is  my  principle  not  to  begin  at  the  end.    The  antiques, 

Raphael,  Poussin,  are  the  masters  of  style.    To   speak  of 

style  to  a  pupil  who  does  not  know  how  to  draw,  is  to  speak 
1 


2  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 

of  colors  to  a  blind  man.  I  do  not  wish  your  daughters  to  be 
like  the  children  who  are  made  to  learn  hj  heart  the  fables 
of  La  Fontaine,  and  who  repeat  like  parrots  those  lessons  of 
lofty  philosophy.  When  the  age  of  discretion  arrives,  they 
despise  them  because  they  have  never  understood  them,  and 
they  persist  in  regarding  them,  after  the  manner  of  their 
ancestors,  as  nothing  more  than  dolls,  hobby-horses,  and  toy 
dogs  to  amuse  their  children. 

It  is  with  the  antiques,  Michael  Angelo,  Kaphael,  Poussin, 
as  with  Homer,  Plato,  Plutarch.  One  must  be  well  on  in 
one's  studies  in  order  to  comprehend  them. 

I  have  not  bored  your  daughters,  then,  with  the  great 
masters,  as  children  are  bored  with  our  beautiful  fables. 
First  impressions  are  so  seldom  modified  that  it  is  prudent 
not  to  speak  to  pupils  about  great  things  until  they  are 
capable  of  appreciating  them. 

The  arts  and  the  sciences  have  their  mysteries  also,  which 
may  not  be  revealed  to  infancy;  that  would  be  exposing 
delicate  eyes  to  a  burning  light. 

But  to-day  I  think  that  I  am  free  to  speak,  and  that  I  shall 
be  understood. 

In  our  drawing  lessons,  before  placing  your  daughters  in 
the  presence  of  nature,  I  confronted  them  with  the  masters 
of  all  the  schools,  in  order  that  they  might  see  how  these 
latter  had  interpreted  nature  while  drawing  it.  To-day,  in 
our  lessons  in  coloring,  before  placing  them  in  the  presence 
of  nature,  I  shall  confront  them  with  the  colorists,  in  order 
that  they  may  see  how  these  latter  have  interpreted  it  with 
the  brush.    But  I  shall  continue  to  be  impartial :   pupils  are 


ANTIQUES GEEAT   MASTEES.  3 

not  made  by  imposing  one's  own  tastes  and  predilections 
upon  them.  I  neither  teacli  my  manner  of  drawing  nor  my 
manner  of  painting.  My  pupils  have  all  the  great  masters 
for  their  professors,  since,  by  means  of  the  tracing  copy,  the 
masters  come  of  themselves  and  set  to  work,  saying  :  "That 
is  not  right :  begin  over  again,  correct." 

I  might  write  to  you  that  Watteau  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
master  for  women.  But  perhaps  there  is  something  in  my 
organization  which  resembles  his,  and  which  makes  me  ap- 
preciate him  more  than  another  woman  would.  So  I  suffer 
the  inclination,  the  feelings  of  your  daughters  to  develope 
and  guide  themselves  uninfluenced.  I  have  opened  for  them 
a  long  road,  very  wide  at  the  starting-point.  At  first  there 
is  room-for  everybody ;  but,  as  one  advances,  it  narrows  and 
becomes  diflQcult.  Many  rest  by  the  way ;  very  few  reach 
the  end.  It  is  Elysium,  Paradise :  many  called  and  few 
chosen. 

But  before  reaching  those  summits  where  the  choicest 
flowers  sparkle,  there  are  charming  harvests  to  be  gathered 
upon  the  lower  slopes.  How  many  wonders,  from  Teniers, 
who  has  painted  the  pleasures  of  Bacchus,  down  to  Watteau, 
animating  the  woods  and  the  gardens.  See  those  parks  and 
those  meadows  with  their  roaming  pau's,  so  happy  in  their 
chatting  and  sporting  that  we  c'atch  ourselves  enjoying  them ; 
enough  to  make  us  believe  that  they  did  nothing  else  under 
Louis  XY.  The  trees  belong  so  completely  to  the  persons, 
and  the  persons  to  the  trees,  that  we  feel  that  they  breathe 
the  same  air.  An  atmosphere  of  happiness  is  spread  over  all 
this  nature,  and,  if  Watteau  has  not  wished  to  make  po^ry, 


4  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 

we  must  at  least  admit  that  he  puts  a  great  deal  of  it  in  the 
hearts  and  minds  of  those  who  contemplate  his  works. 

He  has  painted  the  nature  that  was  before  his  eyes.  If 
the  costume  of  the  age  of  Louis  XV.  had  had  any  character, 
he  would  be  a  painter  of  gtyle,  for  it  is  impossible  to  be  more 
faithful  than  he  is  ;  and  style  is  natural  movement. 

The  great  masters  prove  this.  Phidias  has  reproduced 
the  beautiful  forms  and  the  grand  figures  that  were  before 
his  eyes.  What  have  Eaphael  and  Poussin  done  ?  We  see 
that  they  had  the  fixed  intention  of  expressing  well  the  great 
scenes  that  inspired  them.  They  cling  to  them  with  a  sort 
of  piety,  giving  to  each  one  of  their  personages  his  physiog- 
nomy, his  attitude,  and  his  action.  For  instance,  they  have 
both  painted  wood-sawers  :  what  admirable  faces  !  and  how 
they  are  men  of  our  day !  the  same  correct  and  natural 
movement.  The  only  difference  is  in  the  costume.  And  yet, 
if  Raphael  and  Poussin  had  only  painted  wood-sawers,  they 
would  not  have  passed  for  masters  of  style.  There  are  so 
many  prejudices  upon  the  matter  of  style. 

Those  who  admire  the  great  masters  from  the  true  point 
of  view,  admire  all  those  who  have  adopted  the  same  principle. 

Placed  before  nature,  your  daughters  perfectly  appreciated 
everything  without  effort,  without  theoretical  explanations, 
just  as  they  knew  perspective  without  knowing  the  how  and 
the  wherefore.  They  learned  as  children  learn  to  talk,  with- 
out grammar  or  dictionary.  Is  it  not  acknowledged  that 
the  best  way  of  learning  •  languages  is  to  speak  them  from 
the  first  ?    I  have  adopted  this  principle. 

Children,  pupils,  work  on.    You  will  soon  know  why. 


ANTIQUES — GEEAT   MASTERS.  5 

You  have  the  good  fortune  not  to  have  any  master,  or  to 
have  one  who  is  in  no  hurry  to  be  witty  in  your  presence. 

To-clay,  if  I  say  to  your  daughters :  "  Style  is  born  of 
sweeping  lines  ;  it  is  the  harmony  of  contrasts  ;  when  a 
figure  gives  you  a  sweeping  line  on  one  side,  it  is  very  much 
broken  up  by  movement  on  the  other,"  I  shall  be  understood. 
The  antiques,  the  Eaphaels,  Poussins,  and  Lesueurs  that  they 
drew  from  memory,  have  spoken  before  me.  With  a  single 
word  I  set  them  on  the  road  to  style. 

Give  them  an  example.  Select  from  the  common  people 
a  little  girl  of  ten  to  twelve,  dress  her  in  a  long  shirt  without 
sleeves,  and  let  her  move  and  act  without  seeming  to  watch 
her.  She  will  present  movements  of  incredible  style  and 
beauty,  revealing  to  your  daughters  the  beautiful  angels  of 
our  great  masters. 

Add  a  second  shirt,  reaching  below  the  knees  and  fastened 
at  the  waist,  they  will  recognise  the  beautiful  women  of 
Poussin. 

A  young  girl  of  twelve,  brought  up  among  the  people,  is 
ordinarily  natural ;  her  movements  are  her  own,  and  she  has 
the  carriage  of  the  antiques,  for  the  human  race  is  the  same 
in  all  ages.  Mannerism  comes  from  manners  and  fashions, 
which  do  not  spoil  children  so  soon  in  life.  So  Raphael  se- 
lected his  virgins  among  children :  we  see  it  in  the  shape  of 
their  foreheads  and  the  contour  of  their  cheeks.  Never,  ex- 
cept in  young  girls  and  young  boys  of  twelve,  have  I  found 
those  simple  and  noble  attitudes  which  characterize  all  the 
works  of  this  divine  painter. 

I  am  confident  that  Mary,  who,  every  evening,  draws  from 


6 


memory  lier  beautiful  engravings,  assents  to  every  word  of 
mine,  as  to  an  acknowledged  truth.  In  fact,  I  only  make 
such  observations  to  her  as  she  has  already  made  herself. 
Was  I  wrong,  then,  in  commencing  by  giving  her  that  ex- 
perience ? 

The  experience  of  one's  professors  is  like  that  of  one's 
parents :  it  corrects  nothing,  it  teaches  nothing.  We  profit 
only  by  our  own  experience.  The  Creator  of  all  things  has 
willed  it  thus,  in  order  that  we  should  remain  human  ;  other- 
wise, from  one  experience  to  another,  ever  progressing,  we 
should  simply  be  gods  by  this  time. 

With  a  little  of  philosophy  in  our  hearts,  we  can  pardon 
those  fools  who  upset  our  country,  crying :  Progress !  pro- 
gress !  They  do  not  know  that  progress  in  everything  has 
its  limits,  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  cross.  Governments 
are  like  men,  a  happy  mixture  of  good  and  bad.  I  said  a 
happy  mixture,  and  I  will  not  take  it  back  :  without  the  bad, 
we  should  not  know  the  good. 

Perhaps  it  is  also  necessary  that  governments  should  have 
their  days  of  calm  and  their  days  of  tempest.  After  the 
storms,  the  arts  revive.  And  what  an  admirable  thing  it  is, 
a  revival  of  art.  The  arts  are  like  flowers,  they  wait  until 
the  frosts  and  snows  have  melted  before  they  displaj^  them- 
selves gloriously  in  the  sun.  Only  in  history  there  are  very 
long  winters.  We  could  wish  that  every  government  had 
liot-houses  for  bad  weather,  that  is,  schools  where  the  study 
of  art  might  calm  the  young  heads  of  fifteen  or  eighteen. 
Art  is  the  contact  of  the  spirit  of  man  with  the  spirit  of  God. 
The  artist  thinks  more  than  be  speaks,  and  we  speak  too 


ANTIQUES — GREAT   MASTERS.  7 

much  and  too  well;  thus  it  happens  that  we  no  longer  under- 
stand one  another. 

But  you  wish,  then,  some  one  will  say  to  me,  a  society  of 
painters  and  sculptors  ?  No.  I  mean  that  art  which,  among 
the  ancients,  was  applied  to  everything ;  that  art  which  set 
its  signet  upon  all  the  professions,  and  which  reached  from 
the  handle  of  a  sauce-pan  to  the  statue  of  the  master  of  the 
gods.  With  them,  everything  was  cared  for  and  in  good 
taste.  In  those  times,  a  twentieth  of  the  populat  ion,  at  the 
most,  busied  themselves  with  giving  laws  to  the  rest,  with 
advising,  with  criticising ;  whereas,  to-day,  nineteen-twenti- 
eths  wish  to  decree  and  advise.  We  are  in  a  theatre  where 
there  is  scarcely  anybody  left  but  actors. 

If  all  the  cotton  in  the  world  were  run  through  a  bonnet 
frame,  there  would  be  nothing  but  cotton  bonnets.  You 
put  all  the  brains  through  the  same  loom,  from  which  nothing 
but  writers  come  out.  Is  this  wise?  is  it  judicious  ?  I  am 
no  enemy  of  the  pen.  But  you,  if  you  loved  the  pencil  and 
the  brush  a  little  better,  you  would  feel  all  the  better  for  it. 
But  here  I  am  giving  lessons  to  governments  that  will  not 
listen  to  me !  What  a  blunder !  - 1  will  come  back  to  you, 
who  do  hear  me,  to  embrace  you.  M.  ^.  C. 


8  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 

SECOND   LETTEPv. 

ON  COLOR  WITHOUT  COLORS. 

Befoee  giving  oi^r  young  pupils  a  palette,  my  clear  Julia, 
I  must  make  them  thorouglily  understand  what  color  is. 

In  common  parlance  the  name  of  colorist  is  reserved  for 
the  painter  who  possesses  the  science  of  the  harmony  of 
colors.  He  who  does  not  have  this  science,  but  places 
colors  one  along-side  of  the  other,  commits  an  absurdity. 
He  is  like  a  man  sitting  down  before  a  chess-board  without 
knowing  the  game,  and  moving  his  pieces  hither  and  thither ; 
a  singer  that  has  neither  a  correct  voice  nor  a  correct  ear, 
splitting  the  ears  of  his  hearers.  A  picture  by  such  a  painter 
is  no  painting,  it  is  an  indescribable  something,  false  and  dis- 
cordant, created  for  the  torture  of  the  eye.  How  many  of 
this  sort  have  I  seen  at  the  famous  exhibition  of  1848 !  That 
was  the  image  of  the  age. 

We  must  confine  ourselves  to  making  color  without 
colors,  when  we  have  no  instinct  for  tones,  and  no  talent 
for  harmonizing  them.  This  is  another  way .  of  being  a 
colorist,  which  is  not  so  well  known  to  the  vulgar,  and  to 
which  I  shall  consecrate,  this  letter.  It  will  be  almost  a  repe- 
tition ;  for  already,  in  my  course  of  drawing,  I  have  taught 
it  to  your  daughters.  If  they  have  read  me  attentively,  if 
they  have  forgotten  nothing,  they  wiir  u  aderstand  perfectly 
my  new  explanations. 


COLOR  WITHOUT  COLOKS.  9 

Color  without  colors  is  cMaro-oscwro. 

An  engraving  wliich  has  nothing  but  light  and  shade  is 
colored,  if  the  light  is  distributed  in  such  a  way  as  to  strike 
the  eye.  Qf  this  kind  are  Rembrandt's  engravings.  This 
grand  colorist  is  especially  concerned  about  his  light ;  he 
disposes  it  with  magic  art.     It  is  the  sun  of  his  creation. 

God  has  given  us  this  great  lesson  in  coloring,  by  mak- 
ing the  earth  round,  with  a  single  sun  to  light  it ;  here,  di- 
rectly ;  there,  more  or  less  obliquely.  From  his  point  of 
view,  if  indeed  he  looks  at  us  from  up  there,  he  must  enjoy 
the  most  striking  and  varied  effects.  For  him,  that  part  of 
the  globe  which  receives  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  is  the 
most  salient  point  of  his  momentarily  shifting  panorama. 
Further  off,  shadows  appear  on  every  side  and  form  the  most 
diversified  and  attractive  scenes.  Inasmuch  as  the  earth  is 
not  lit  up  everywhere  at  the  same  time,  we  can  say  then,  as 
I  have  said  of  Rembrandt,  that  God  has  disposed  the  light. 
What  a  master  for  those  painters  who  know  how  to  study  his 
works ! 

In  order  to  understand  me,  take  a  ball  and  shift  its  lumi- 
nous point  by  holding  it  to  the  light  of  a  lamp.  You  will 
see  through  how  many  gradations  its  light  passes,  from  the 
brightest  part  to  the  darkest  ones. 

To  his  lesson  in  coloring  God  has  added  a  lesson  in  pic- 
turesqueness,  by  interposing  clouds  between  the  sun  and  the 
earth.  He  thus  changes  the  uniform  order  of  light,  and 
gives  it  those  unexpected  shapings,  those  ever  new  effects, 
which  delight  us ;  we  might  almost  say  that  he  has  not  been 
willing  that  ennui  should  attack  us. 
1* 


10 


In  imitating  him,  tlie  painter  who  is  gifted  with  an  ob- 
serving spirit  can  place  the  light  where  he  wishes ;  for  in  a 
picture  we  only  see  the  effect  of  the  light  without  its  cause, 
inasmuch  as  the  cause  is  almost  always  outside  the  limits  of 
the  canvas. 

liut  who  knows  how  to  profit  by  the  great  lessons  that 
the  Creator  gives  us  every  moment?  Pride  has  ruined  us  on 
our  entry  into  the  world.  It  renders  us  blind  ;  we  believe 
ourselves  demi-gods,  capable  of  creating.  Ko,  we  can  create 
nothing.  We  are  only  imitators,  and  it  is  only  by  that  title 
that  we  are  worth  anything.  Great  men  are  only  the  great 
apes  of  creation ;  and,  in  the  presence  of  the  author  of  all 
things,  we  should  have  that  ingenious  and  naive  awkward- 
ness which  we  study  vvith  so  much  interest  in  the  imperfect 
beings  that  imitate  us  on  earth. 

Were  I  a  political  woman,  I  should  add  that  the  best 
governed  countries  are  those  whose  inhabitants  have  taken 
their  form  of  government  from  on  high,  and  accept  from 
their  chief  what  they  accept  from  God.  When  it  rains,  is 
everybody  pleased  ?  And  we  would  have  every  act  of  our 
ruler  satisfy  everybody  at  once  !    Is  it  possible  ? 

But  I  am  only  a  painter,  thank  Heaven !  And,  as  I  have 
already  said,  the  painter,  continually  on  the  look-out  in  the 
presence  of  nature,  acquires  a  groundwork  of  philosophy 
that  renders  him  happy.  He  enjoys  in  this  world  so  many 
things  that  cost  him  nothing,  his  imagination  procures  him 
so  many  treasures,  that  he  soars,  so  to  speak,  above  the  petty 
weaknesses  and  miseries  of  this  world. 

So,  my  dear  Julia,  your  daughters  will  be  eternally  grate- 


COLOR   WITHOUT    COLOES.  11 

ful  to  you  for  having  made  them  learn  the  art  of  drawing. 
I  thank  my  mother  for  it  every  day,  amid  my  enemies  and 
troubles.  What  a  comforter  she  has  given  me  !  And  what 
a  resource,  should  fortune  come  to  play  you  false !  For  on 
what  can  one  rely  in  a  country  that  dates  by  revolutions,  ex- 
cept on  one's  own  availability  ?  Make  haste,  then,  my  dear 
pupils,  to  have  a  true  talent;  to-morrow,  perhaps,  you  will 
have  need  of  it. 

You  already  know  how  to  draw ;  take  your  brushes. 

From  color  without  colors,  which  we  cannot  call  lumi- 
nous color,  we  will  pass  to  the  color  of  harmony,  which 
water-colors  teach  in  a  clear  and  precise  manner.  But  I  take 
it  for  granted  that  I  am  addressing  Eliza  and  Mary,  who 
know  my  first  lessons :  without  which  they  would  not  un- 
derstand the  second  ones ;  they  would  not  even  understand 
this  letter,  which  I  close  in  bidding  you  all  three,  adieu. 

M.  f:.  0. 


12 


THIRD    LETTER. 

THE  NIGHT  WATCH  OF  REMBEANDT. 

This  is  the  occasion  for  speaking  to  you,  my  dear  Julia, 
of  Rembrandt's  Night  Watch,  a  master-piece  of  cMaro-oscurOj 
of  depth,  and  of  atmosphere.    It  is  a  magical  work. 

In  this  picture  it  was  that  I  found  all  the  processes  that  I 
am  about  to  give  you  for  making  objects  advance  or  recede. 

It  was  audacious,  it  is  true,  to  undertake  upon  a  little  sheet 
of  white  paper,  with  water-colors,  a  work  that  might  be 
called  the  vigor  of  vigors. 

But  then  I  have  found  the  secret  that  I  was  looking  for  : 
to  detach  the  personages  in  a  picture  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  air  will  circulate  around  them,  and  that  those  in  the 
back-ground  will  not  be  in  the  vapor. 

The  Night  Watch  of  Rembrandt  is  lit  up  just  like  the  half 
of  a  ball,  as  I  have  mentioned  to  you.  Having  discovered 
that,  I  began  to  give  the  chiaro-oscuro  with  a  single  graduat- 
ed tone ;  then  I  painted  over  it  in  the  shadow  precisely  as 
in  the  light ;  and  I  found  that  it  was  with  water-colors  alone 
that  such  secrets  could  be  discovered,  and  with  water-colors 
alone  that  they  could  be  painted. 

If  you  only  knew  how  easy  painting  in  oils  appeared  to 
me  after  that  work.  I  was  able  to  hit  upon  the  tone  of  the 
figures  in  the  back-ground,  which  is  as  accentuated,  as  lu- 
minous, as  vigorous  as  that  of  the  figures  in  front. 


THE    NIGHT    WATCH    OF    EEMBRAJSTDT.    ,  13 

You  will  see  this  by  following,  step  by  step,  the  lessons 
that  I  am  going  to  give  you. 

I  also  found  the  shadow  of  the  light,  which  is  the  whole 
color,  all  in  this  picture. 

Bonington  had  hit  upon  the  very  same  processes  in  en- 
deavoring to  copy  a  Rubens  in  water-colors.  This  proves 
that  truth  is  one  and  the  same,  for  I  was  not  acquainted  with 
this  great  colorist ;  it  was  M.  Carrier  who  informed  me  of 
it,  after  having  read  the  first  edition  of  this  book. 

As  soon  as  your  daughters  have  practiced  upon  single 
models,  you  will  also  place  them  before  a  great  master  and 
a  great  composition. 

You  can  make  them  commence  the  study  of  the  principles 
of  color  with  an  engraving,  in  order  that  they  may  not  have 
to  trouble  themselves  with  two  things  at  once  :  the  processes 
that  I  am  to  give  them,  the  tone  of  the  work  that  they  will 
have  to  copy.  You  understand,  of  course,  that  a  little  more 
yellow,  a  little  more  blue,  makes  things  more  or  less  dark, 
more  or  less  light.  Let  us  then  commence  learning  the 
principles  of  color  from  a  model  without  colors.  You  will 
see  studies  that  are,  at  times,  extraordinary.  Young  girls 
had  mastered  the  charcoal  so  thoroughly,  had  become  so  in- 
telligent by  following  scrupulously  my  method  in  coloring, 
that  I  have  seen  water- colors  made  from  engravings,  in  the 
very  tone  of  the  master.  Above  all,  it  is  the  colorists  that 
they  execute  the  best,  because  all  the  processes  have  been 
taken  from  colorists. 

So,  when  your  daughters  will  be  able  to  find  the  tone  by 


14 


means  of  water-colors,  they  will  find  it  for  pastel  painting, 
for  painting  on  ivory  and  porcelain. 

With  regard  to  painting  in  oils  :  as  soon  as  you  know  wa- 
ter-colors, I  will  give  you  the  method  of  painting ;  as  soon 
as  you  have  applied  these  processes  to  water-colors,  you  will 
have  the  key  to  all  color. 


PAPER   AND   BErSHES.      '  15 


FOUETH   LETTER. 

LESSON— SELECTION  OF  PAPER  AND  BRUSHES— METHOD   OP 
STRETCHING  THE  PAPER— MANNER  OF  WASHING-IN. 

It  is  not  easy,  my  dear  Julia,  to  find  brushes  and  paper 
suitable  for  water-colors.  The  best  way  of  paying  dear,  is 
to  hunt  for  a  good  bargain.  A  brush  for  six  francs  may  last 
six  months,  a  year  ;  a  brush  for  two  francs  will  last  only  two 
weeks,  because,  at  that  price,  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  a  de- 
cent One.  A  brush,  to  be  good,  must  be  elastic,  that  is,  when 
it  has  been  wet  and  worked  into  a  point  against  the  rim  of 
the  glass,  the  point  should  always  re-adjust  itself  when  turned 
to  the  right  or  the  left.  Short  and  thick  brushes  especially 
possess  this  quality,  and  their  points,  although  very  fine,  are 
firm  and  springy.  A  good  brush  may  be  used  both  for  draw- 
ing an  eye  and  making  a  sky.  It  is  better,  however,  to  keep 
the  old  ones  for  making  the  skies  and  back-grounds,  so  as  to 
spare  the  points  of  the  new  ones. 

With  regard  to  the  paper,  choose  it  heavy,  and  dry  to  the 
touch.  Paper  that  has  been  long  kept  is  worth  much  more 
than  new  paper,  which  has  the  additional  disadvantage  of 
having  been  made  by  machinery.  By  wetting  the  paper 
with  your  tongue,  you  will  see  whether  it  has  been  well  sized, 
that  is  to  say,  whether  it  does  not  absorb  water,  which  is  the 
essential  point. 

"  Poor  workmen  never  find  good  tools,"  says  the  proverb. 


16  cave's  manual  of  color.     • 

Perfectly  natural ;  either  they  have  never  been  taught  how  to 
select,  or  poor  ones  are  given  them,  although  they  need  better 
ones  than  other  workmen.  It  is  harder  to  fight  two  enemies 
than  one.  A  good  fighter  with  a  poor  sword  may  be  for- 
midable, but  what  can  a  poor  fighter  do  with  a  poor  sword  ? 
Give  your  daughters,  then,  the  best  that  there  is  in  the  way 
of  brushes  and  paper  ;  you  will  spare  them  many  a  trial  by 
making  their  task  easier.  After  a  while,  they  will  be  at  lib- 
erty to  perform  feats,  to  paint  with  matches,  or  to  make 
water-colors  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  paper. 

But  first  they  must  learn  to  find  the  right  side.    . 

Take  a  sheet  of  paper,  hold  it  flat  on  a  level  with  your 
eye ;  if  you  observe  any  streaks,  or  anything  like  scraper- 
marks  on  the  surface,  you  have  the  wrong  side,  and  you  can 
mark  it  with  a  cross. 

The  great  thing  is,  now,  to  stretch  this  paper  on  the  board. 
Follow  carefully  this  recipe,  which  is  as  difficult  to  follow  as 
the  one  for  those  famous  preserves  that  we  missed  so  admi- 
rably, according  to  the  Family  Cook.  I  am  going  to  try  and 
be  as  simple  and  clear  as  its  learned  author. 

Fold  and  cut  your  paper  of  the  size  that  you  have  se- 
lected ;  wet  thoroughly  the  wrong  side  of  the  sheet,  with  a 
sponge,  and  lay  it  upon  the  board  evenly  and  without 
wrinkles ;  then,  in  order  not  to  soil  or  rub  it,  place  on  top, 
edge  to  edge,  a  piece  of  ordinary  paper. 

But,  before  doing  this,  wet  a  piece  of  mouth-glue,  which 
you  can  hold  between  your  lips,  so  as  to  have  it  ready  for 
use. 

l!Tow,  with  the  thumb  and  fore-finger,  spreading  them  as 


STEETCHIXG   THE    PAPER.  ■   17 

far  apart  as  possible,  press  the  two  papers  upon  the  board, 
and  then  pass  your  mouth-glue  under  the  edge  of  the  moist- 
ened paper ;  you  have  then  only  to  bear  upon  the  paper  on 
top  with  the  back  of  your  pen-knife,  rubbing  it  until  the 
other  paper  is  glued  tight. 

By  taking  care  to  keep  the  mouth-glue  soft,  you  can  thus 
go  all  around  the  board  without  being  in  a  hurry. 

During  the  operation,  a  book  placed  upon  your  sheet  of 
paper  will  serve  to  hold  it  flat. 

"  Having  followed  all  these  directions  carefully,  let  it  dry, 
and  you  ought  to  have  a  favorable  result." 

This  is  called  the  bore  of  water-colors.  We  must  set  about 
it  resolutely  and  in  cold  blood.  Boards  can  be  bought 
already  stretched,  but  the  paper  is  not  always  good ;  it  is 
often  on  the  wrong  side ;  besides,  when  one  has  found  a 
quality  of  paper  to  one's  liking,  it  is  not  pleasant  to  change. 
"We  must,  then,  at  the  outset,  form  the  good  habit  of  helping 
ourselves. 

Oh  !  confess  that  I  must  indeed  be  possessed  with  the  de- 
sire of  making  good  pupils,  to  have  the  courage  to  write  all 
that.  I  bestow  my  malediction  upon  those  who  will  not 
carry  out  all  that  I  prescribe.  I  pronounce  them  unworthy, 
and  forbid  their  reading  these  letters. 

While  we  are  learning  to  stretch  our  paper,  let  us  divert 
ourselves  a  little  by  learning  to  handle  our  brush. 

We  are  going  to  make  some  attempts  at  dull  tints  on  or- 
dinary writing  paper,  with  ivory-black,  for  instance.  Let  us, 
with  the  brush,  put  some  drops  of  water  on  a  piece  of  guard- 
paper,  and  add  to  them  a  little  ivory -black,  to  make  a  gray 


18 


tone.  This  tone  made,  we  will  take  some  of  it,  with  the 
brush,  and  wash-in  some  squares  on  the  paper.  In  order  to 
succeed  in  making  them  perfectly  uniform,  we  must  ascertain 
how  much  water  we  can  leave  in  the  brush,  and  we  shall  see 
that  we  need  not  be  afraid  of  taking  too  much.  We  will 
also  make  bands  of  all  widths  along-side  of  one  another,  in 
order  to  learn  how  to  reserve  the  white  parts  with  precision. 
If  we  have  too  much  water  left,  on  coming  to  the  end  of 
what  we  are  trying  to  execute,  we  can  dry  our  brush  by 
holding  it  against  the  rim  of  the  glass,  and  it  will  soon  take 
up  the  excess.  These  exercises  are  extremely  useful,  and 
will  not  be  slow  to  make  us  mistresses  of  our  brush. 

From  this  we  will  pass  to  the  first  drawings  of  houses 
that  I  sent  your  daughters.  The  brush,  in  their  hands,  is 
about  to  replace  the  pencil.  Let  them  commence  by  tracing 
the  drawings  very  lightly,  in  order  to  avoid  using  bread- 
crumb and  india-rubber,  which  render  wash-paper  very  bad. 
This  tracing  accomplished,  they  will  lay  on  the  half-tints 
everywhere,  only  reserving  the  whites  with  the  exactness 
that  I  have  enjoined. 

You  see,  from  the  very  first  step,  how  necessary  it  is  to  be 
able  to  draw  from  memory.  In  water-colors,  it  is  always 
necessary  to  lead  off  correctly ;  a  correction  is  not  possible. 

While  the  half-tint  is  drying,  and  not  to  lose  time,  your 
daughters  will  return  to  their  guard-paper  and  repeat  the 
exercises  that  I  have  above  indicated.  When  the  paper  is 
dry,  and  has  become  stretched  once  more,  they  will  draw  the 
architectural  lines  with  the  point  of  the  brush ;  after  that, 
they  will  go  over  the  shadows  with  tints  more  or  less  dark. 


WASHEN^G-rN".  19 

They  may  be  obliged  to  go  over  the  most  vigorous  parts 
twice. 

From  houses  they  will  pass  to  draped  figures,  to  heads,  to 
hands,  to  trees,  to  skies  ;  after  that,  they  will  shade,  by  wash- 
ing-in,  all  that  they  may  have  in  the  way  of  engravings. 

Fmally,  they  will  wash-in,  from  memory,  in  order  that  the 
brush  may  replace  the  pencil,  and  replace  it  with  an  equal 
amount  of  skill.  M.  !&.  0. 


20  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

FIFTH  LETTER. 

EEMAEKS— USEFULNESS  OP  BOEES— HISTOEY  OF  SOPHEONIA. 

Study,  my  clear  Julia,  is  like  everything  in  this  world,  a 
mixture  of  trouble  and  pleasm-e ;  the  study  of  water-colors 
no  less  than  every  other.  Its  beginnings  are  always  hard ; 
my  last  letter  has  proved  that,  both  by  the  ennui  that  it  has 
caused  you,  and  by  the  difficulty  of  carrying  out  my  instruc- 
tions ;  but  I  promise  to  indemnify  you  for  it.  Water-color  is 
a  fairy,  with  hands  full  of  beautiful  golden  fruit  for  obedient 
and  studious  children. 

But  to  stretch  a  sheet  of  paper,  what  torture !  No  doubt ; 
fortunately,  we  can  escape  from  it.  This  is  one  of  my  little 
secrets  that  I  am  going  to  impart  to  you.  There  is  another 
torture  besides  that  of  stretching  paper ;  it  is  to  see  a  bore 
enter,  one  of  those  out  of  employ,  who  come  buzzing  around 
us  like  drones  around  the  hive.  Well,  I  have  found  the  way 
to  neutralize  one  bore  by  another.  Bores  are  almost  always 
good-humored  and  obliging.  When  I  see  one  enter,  imme- 
diately I  set  about  stretching  my  paper.  He  sees  me  impa- 
tient and  unhappy ;  that  touches  him  ;  he  assists  me  at  first, 
and  winds  up  by  doing  the  drudgery  himself  Would  you 
believe  it  ?  I  have  at  times  seen  a  bore  with  a  certain  amount 
of  pleasure.  I  have  even  seen  more  than  one  man  of  intelli- 
gence solicit  a  bore's  task. 

By  the  way,  there  seems  to  be  almost  an  entire  system  of 


rsEFULN'l:ss  of  boees.  21 

conduct  there  for  an  intelligent  woman,  provided  she  is  a 
little  bit  pretty,  to  take  the  good  of  things  for  one's  self,  and 
leave  the  bad  for  others.  But  that  v^^ould  be  selfishness,  and 
I  will  none  of  it.  Simply  permit  me  to  extract  a  little  profit 
from  these  good  bores.  They  do  not  complain  of  it.  The 
mouth-glue  is  their  delight. 

I  had  got  that  far  in  my  letter,  my  dear  Julia,  when  the 
Countess  Stadmiski  was  announced.  My  servant  has  pushed 
to  such  an  excess  the  fault  of  murdering  names,  that  I  looked 
around,  saying:  "It  is  the  Countess  de  Morantais,  you 
mean  ?  "  "  Yes, -ma' am."  I  got  up,  in  a  very  bad  humor,  and 
went  into  the  parlor, 

A  thousand  to  one  you  would  not  guess  whom  I  found. 
Sophronia,  our  old  comrade,  who  had  married,  you  know,  a 
receiver-general,  and  is  now  Countess  de  Stadmiski.  She 
is  as  young,  as  spirituelle,  as  pretty  as  ever.  If  I  can  give 
you  her  history  as  she  related  it  to  me,  it  will  interest  you, 
and  our  girls  will  see  what  can  be  done  with  one's  fingers. 
She  began  by  enquiring  after  you ;  she  did  not  know  your 
name  nor  your  residence.  When  several  young  girls  quit 
boarding  school,  we  might  say  they  were  on  a  ship  suddenly 
shipwrecked.  Each  one  escapes  her  own  way,  the  best  she 
can,  like  an  egoist.  But  if,  some  time  after,  two  comrades 
meet,  their  friendships  revive  as  briskly  as  though  there  had 
never  been  any  parting.  They  know  each  other  so  well ! 
Sophronia  will  be  rejoiced  to  make  you  a  visit  on  her  return 
from  Russia. 

I  have  just  found,  these  last  few  days,  a  letter  that  she 
wrote  me  the  second  year  of  her  marriage  with  the  receiver- 


22  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

general  of  the  Haiite-Garonne.  I  send  it  to  yon.  It  will  ex- 
plain to  you,  better  tlian  I  could  do  it,  the  commencement  of 
her  history : 

"My  Dear  Eliza:  Yesterday  evening,  at  the  prefect's, 
I  saw  your  unfortunate  French  professor,  whom  we  enraged 
so  much,  by  way  of  taking  revenge  for  the  ennui  that  he 
caused  us.  And,  would  you  believe  it?  it  was  with  a  feeling 
of  pleasure  that  I  saw  his  hateful  face  wrinkle  to  make  me 
a  gracious  salutation  ;  for,  at  that  instant,  your  face  and 
Julia's  appeared  to  me.  I  thought  that  he  was  going  to  give 
me  some  news  about  you.  Not  at  all.  Then  I  became  sad 
and  absent-minded,  thinking  that  we  had  been  separated  two 
years,  and  not  one  of  us  three  had  broken  silence.  Am  I  the 
most  to  blame  ?  I  know  not ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is 
ten  years  since  I  have  seen  you,  so  much  has  happened  in 
that  short  space  of  time. 

"  Seven  years  at  boarding  school,  seven  long  days  :  Mon- 
days, Wednesdays,  and  Fridays,  lessons  in  grammar ;  Tues- 
days, Thursdays,  and  Saturdays,  lessons  in  geography ;  one 
Sunday,  mass  and  vespers,  and  the  next,  holiday.  That  .was 
the  life.  But  two  years  of  marriage — two  centuries  in  com- 
parison. At  the  age  of  nineteen  and  a  half,  I  seem  to  myself 
an  old  woman  already ;  for,  two  months  ago,  I  was  happily 
delivered  of  my  second  child.  I  have  the  honor,  Madame, 
of  informing  you  of  it.  Yes,  Eliza,  I  have  two  daughters. 
Judge  whether  I  am  happy,  I  who  have  always  pitied  the 
male  sex  in  general,  and  in  particular  my  poor  brother,  and 
above  all  my  husband.  When  I  wrote  on  the  blackboard,  in 
big  white  letters :    *  God  has  been  well  pleased  in  creating 


HISTORY    OF    SOPHEONIA.  23 

woman,  and  has  said  to  man,  perfect  thyself  to  please  her,' 
I  did  not  think  I  was  uttering  such  a  great  truth.  Do  you 
know,  my  dear  friend,  that  men  go  through  the  labors  of 
Hercules  in  order  to  be  agreeable  to  us.  They  give  us  every- 
where the  best  places,  and  always  the  best  things.  If  we 
drop  our  handkerchief  or  gloves,  they  will  break  their  backs 
to  pick  them  up.  If  they  have  gardens,  it  is  to  offer  us  the 
flowers ;  if  they  have  wit,  it  is  to  charm  us  ;  and  if  they  have 
hearts,  for  whom  are  they,  good  heavens,  if  not  for  us  ?  Have 
you  observed  how  they  detest  one  another  ?  Those  leaves  of 
paper  in  which  they  abuse  one  another  every  day  have  sur- 
prised me  very  much  ;  if  well-bred  men  treat  each  other  so, 
what  would  the  roughs  do,  if  they  wrote  in  the  newspapers  ? 

*'  So  I  said  to  my  husband,  the  other  day :  '  How  can  you 
expect  women  to  respect  men  ?  You  do  not  respect  your- 
selves.' 

"  Speaking  of  my  husband,  I  will  tell  you  something 
good.  I  ask  myself  every  day:  "What  have  I  done  that  he 
should  love  me  so  much,  that  he  should  work  as  he  does  from 
morning  to  night,  for  the  good  of  me  and  my  daughters  ? 
Really,  in  his  presence  I  am  ashamed  of  my  good-for-nothing- 
ness.  I  take  the  trouble  to  rise,  to  drive  out ;  I  give  orders  to 
my  servants  ;  I  play  with  my  two  dolls :  that  finishes  the  day. 
In  the  evening,  as  soon  as  they  are  asleep,  I  beautify  myself 
to  appear  in  the  parlor,  where  I  hear  only  charming  things. 
I  was  going  to  forget  the  pleasure  that  I  enjoy  in  buying  the 
most  delightful  fancy  articles  for  my  house,  for  myself,  for  my 
daughters  ;  they  bid  fair  to  be  as  beautiful  as  any  of  us.  So 
I  swear  to  you  that  I  shall  not  stuff  them  with  science. 


24  cave's  manual  of  color. 

What  good?  Men  love  us  just  as  we  are.  Our  sex  is  bom 
woman,  the  other  becomes  man.  Since  I  have  been  married, 
my  husband  has  not  once  asked  me  for  a  song,  and  I  believe 
that  he  does  not  know  that  I  learned  drawing.  What  a 
mistaken  idea  I  formed  about  marriage.  I  was  alarmed  when 
people  spoke  to  me  of  a  receiver-general ;  I  believed  that 
he  would  not  converse  with  me  on  anything  but  accounts  and 
figures,  and  I  said  to  myself:  I  shall  be  able  to  reply,  for  I 
have  always  taken  the  first  prizes  in  mathematics.  On  the 
contrary,  he  has  never  spoken  to  me  on  serious  subjects. 
What  trouble  might  be  avoided,  if  we  were  only  acquainted 
beforehand  with  the  man  we  were  to  marry.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  my  drawing  and  my  music,  which  have  afforded 
me  some  pleasant  hours,  how  many  bores  I  did  undergo. 

"  However,  to  speak  frankly,  these  bores  are  roses  in  com- 
parison with  all  the  torments  that  my  poor  brother  has  en- 
dured. We  have  no  public  examinations  to  pass :  we  only 
get  a  light  varnish  of  education,  to  make  us  shine.  Bu.t  the 
poor  young  men !  After  ten  years  at  college,  they  have  to 
tremble  through  examination  after  examination ;  then  they 
draw  for  the  conscription ;  then  they  are  placed  in  some  law- 
yer's oflBce,  where  the  first  person  that  comes  along  exposes 
to  them  all  his  troubles,  a  mass  of  undecipherable  papers  :  I 
have  seen  some  of  them.  At  all  events,  they  will  be  undis- 
turbed in  this  den  of  chicanery  ?  No ;  the  state  forces  them, 
a  second  time,  to  turn  soldiers.  One  order  after  another  to 
mount  guard  is  brought  them ;  so  that  they  are  sentenced, 
condemned  repeatedly  to  twenty-four  hours  of  prison. 
Enough  to  make  one  hand  in  his  resignation  as  a  man.    Yery 


HISTORY    OF   SOPHEONIA.  25 

fortunately,  the  state  shows  some  mercy:  jjiy  husband  as- 
sures me  that  my  brother  is  not  so  unhappy  as  he  writes,  and 
that  men  in  general  would  not  be  women. 

"  Perhaps  because  they  are  so  glad  to  love  us. 
"  Your  darling, 

"  SOPKRONIA." 

In  this  somewhat  extravagant  letter,  my  dear  Julia,  you 
will  see  better  than  I  could  convey  to  you,  what  Sophronia's 
happiness  was,  and  what  view  she  took  of  life.  Four  years 
rolled  on  after  these  first  two,  without  changing  her  circum- 
stances any.  But  on  the  morrow  of  the  sixth  anniversary  of 
her  marriage,  the  morrow  of  a  day  passed  in  joy,  her  hus- 
band was  thrown  from  his  horse :  killed  on  the  spot.  The 
poor  woman  burst  into  tears  while  telling  me  how  the  dead 
body  had  been  brought  home:  "My  eyes,"  she  said,  "be- 
came so  fixed  and  lustreless  that  people  feared  for  my  reason. 
There  was  a  friend  with  me,  the  wife  of  the  prefect's  secre- 
tary, who  took  me  and  my  two  daughters  to  her  home.  To 
convey  to  you  an  idea  of  her  patient  kindness,  her  attentive 
tenderness,  would  be  impossible.  For  one  entire  year  I  ac- 
cepted her  devotion,  without  concerning  myself  about  the 
trouble  I  was  causing  her :  an  unconcern  that  was  terrible  to 
everybody.  At  times  I  would  embrace  my  children,  but 
without  thinking  of  them.  I  had  but  one  preoccupation : 
that  was  to  recall  the  features  of  my  husband  and  fix  them 
upon  paper.  I  made  more  than  twenty  portraits  of  him,  all 
in  different  positions.  My  friend's  husband  had  looked  after 
my  affairs ;  but  the  state  of  my  health,  or  rather  of  my  head 
prevented  him  from  rendering  me  any  accounts.  Finally 
2 


26  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 

the  doctor,  in  older  to  arouse  me  from  my  apathy,  conceived 
the  idea  of  revealing  to  me,  all  at  once,  a  second  misfortune  : 
'  You  have  left,'  he  said,  '  thirty  thousand  francs  ;  you  have 
fifteen  hundred  francs  income ;  from  that  must  be  deducted 
five  hundred  francs  for  the  lodgings  where  your  furniture  is 
kept,  and,  as  a  thousand  francs  a  year  will  not  be  enough  for 
you,  you  will  work  ;  a  mother,  you  will  work  for  your  chil- 
dren, as  he  whom  you  regret  worked  for  them  and  you.' 

"  At  these  words  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  I  were  awak- 
ing out  of  a  painful  dream  :  What !  I  said,  I  can  do  some- 
thing, then,  for  him  who  lived  only  for  me.  A  great  duty 
shone  upon  me,  that  saved  me  from  madness.  If  my  hus- 
band had  left  me  a  fortune,  I  should  be  in  a  lunatic  asylum. 

"  Animated  by  an  energy  of  which,  until  then,  I  had  no 
idea,  I  conducted  my  two  daughters  into  our  little  apart- 
ments, which  I  found  charming.  The  hand  and  the  heart  of 
my  Mend  had  gone  before  me.  With  delight  I  saw  there 
once  more  everything  that  had  belonged  to  my  husband,  all 
that  he  had  touched,  all  that  he  had  loved.  It  seemed  as 
though  he  were  there.  He  was  there,  in  fact :  all  the  por- 
traits that  I  had  drawn  during  my  sickness  were  hung  up 
around  me.  Their  resemblance  was  striking :  all  the  expres- 
sions of  his  noble  countenance,  now  smiling,  now  affection- 
ate, now  serious.  I  knelt  down  with  my  daughters  before 
those  dear  and  sacred  images,  and  I  felt  that  a  protection 
from  on  high  descended  upon  us. 

"  Not  many  days  after  that,  a  lady  came  to  me,  to  order 
the  portrait  of  her  daughter,  who  was  about  to  leave  for  Eng- 
land.   She  expressed  luer  regret  at  this  separation,  which  was 


HISTORY   OE   SOPHRONIA.  27 

to  be  for  a  long  time.  Again  it  was  my  friend  that  had  in- 
terested this  lady  in  my  case,  wishing  to  give  me  employ- 
ment, and  to  make  me  understand  that  there  were  other 
troubles  in  the  world  besides  mine. 

"  I  made  this  portrait,  so  to  speak,  with  my  heart.  Not 
only  was  it  a  likeness,  but  the  eyes  of  the  young  girl  said 
good-bye  with  a  tenderness  full  of  poetry  :  so  I  had  to  paint 
after  that  her  mother,  her  little  brothers  and  sisters.  And 
these  portraits  procured  me  others.  I  had  the  merit  of  hit- 
ting the  likeness  ;  I  was  ignorant  enough,  as  you  wrote  me, 
not  to  get  off  any  science  at  the  expense  of  those  who  en- 
trusted their  faces  to  me.  I  contented  myself  with  seeking 
the  physiognomy  of  each  one,  his  habitual  position,  adroitly 
mixing  crayon,  pastel,  and  water-color,  after  the  manner  of 
Vidal,  a  beautiful  portrait  by  whom  I  had  seen  at  Toulouse. 

"  I  cannot  express  to  you  the  happiness  I  felt  in  earning 
money,  in  creating  a  value  out  of  my  fingers,  and  employing 
this  value  for  the  comfort,  the  adornment  of  my  little  girls. 
Of  all  the  satisfaction  in  life,  I  believe  that  that  is  the  purest 
and  sweetest ;  every  evening  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  hus- 
band thanked  me  for  it,  and  that  I  slept  blissfully.  This 
lasted  five  years.  We  lived  in  mediocrity,  but  I  envied  no 
one. 

"  God  wished  to  try  me  still  more.  Six  weeks  passed  by 
the  bedside  of  my  eldest  daughter,  who  was  attacked  by  the 
measles,  had  impaired  my  health.  It  took  us  both  a  year  to 
recover,  during  which  time  I  could  not  handle  a  pencil.  I 
saw  myself,  my  dear  friend,  a  prey  to  that  torture  called 
want  of  money.    I  saw  bills  come  in  that  I  could  not  pay, 


28  CAYE  S   MAJiTUAL   OF    COLOR. 

want's  that  I  could  not  satisfy,  mortifications,  privations.  I 
cannot  tell  you  what  I  suflfered.  I  had  not  the  vanity  to  wish 
to  appear  rich,  but  I  had  the  pride  to  be  unwilling  to  appear 
poor.  What  a  conflict  I  had  to  sustain  with  the  difficulties 
of  each  day !  I  will  tell  you  no  more  about  them  ;  the  recital 
of  those  things,  the  remembrance  of  them  even,  now  that 
they  are  over,  gives  me  a  sort  of  shudder. 

"  My  daughters  grew  up.  The  time  for  their  first  commun- 
ion arrived.  Every  day  I  conducted  them  twice  to  church  ; 
there  they  made  the  acquaintance  of  another  young  girl, 
Genevieve  Stadmiski.  On  my  side  I  had  exchanged  a  few 
words  with  her  governess,  a  very  distingue  person.  Count 
Stadmiski  owned  a  magnificent  chateau  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Toulouse.  He  had  come  there  seeking  a  relief  that  he  had 
found  nowhere.  He  was  mourning  for  his  wife,  who  had 
died  a  year  after  marriage,  in  giving  birth  to  Genevieve.  I 
saw  him  for  the  first  time  the  day  of  the  first  communion  ; 
like  me,  he  was  deeply  moved  by  the  ceremony.  As  we  left 
the  church  it  was  raining ;  the  governess  came  with  a  mes- 
sage from  him  offering  us  his  carriage,  which  I  accepted.  As 
soon  as  we  had  taken  our  seats  in  it,  he  came  himself,  to  beg 
us  to  partake  of  a  small  collation.  *  Our  children,'  he  said, 
*  will  return  to  the  church  together,  without  being  wet.' 

"  We  were  in  such  delicate  health  at  that  time,  that  I  grate- 
fully accepted  his  offer.  The  Count  was  acquainted  with 
my  entire  history.  What  was  an  impromptu  afiair  for  me 
was  not  one  for  him  ;  everything  had  been  prepared  for  my 
reception.  It  was  luxury  carried  to  its  utmost ;  the  Count 
did  not  know  his  own  wealth.    After  the  breakfast,  a  gleam 


HISTOlftr   OF   SOPHEONIA.  29 

of  sunshine  permitted  us  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  park.  We 
directed  our  steps  towards  a  delicious  pavilion,  constructed, 
like  the  chateau,  in  the  style  of  the  palace  at  Fontainebleau, 
but  on  a  very  small  scale.  The  clumps  of  trees  that  sur- 
rounded it  on  the  south  and  north,  made  it  an  abode  full  of  mys- 
tery and  charm.  '  In  your  place,'  I  said  to  the  Count, '  I  should 
live  here,  and  leave  the  chateau  to  the  servants.'  '  That  is 
what  I  shall  do,'  he  replied, '  if  you  refuse  me  the  favor  of 
coming  here  and  spending  the  summer.  It  is  not  a  favor 
that  I  am  showing  you,  it  is  a  service  that  I  ask  of  you  ;  my 
daughter  has  need  of  the  society  of  your  two  amiable  chil- 
dren ;  with  them,  see  how  gay  and  rosy  she  becomes.' 

"  I  accepted,  looking  at  Genevieve's  cheeks  ;  I  had  also 
taken  a  look  at  the  cheeks  of  my  daughters. 

"  The  Count  showed  us  our  rooms,  that  let  in  the  air  and 
the  sunshine  in  profusion.  The  next  morning  we  were  in- 
stalled in  them.  I  remained  there  all  summer,  and  I  forgot 
my  troubles  so  completely  that  I  soon  recovered  my  health, 
that  is  to  say,  my  youth.    You  can  guess  the  rest. 

The  Count  was  seized  with  an  extraordinary  passion  for 
me.  He  was  extremely  fond  of  painting  ;  his  greatest  plea- 
sure was  to  see  me  make  sketches  of  all  the  nooks  of  his  park, 
all  the  places  that  we  visited  together.  He  mounted  them 
himself  and  collected  them  in  magnificent  albums.  He  had 
a  rich  collection  of  engravings  and  works  of  art ;  he  it  was 
that  taught  me  to  know  the  masters  and  formed  my  taste. 
We  complimented  each  other:  he  was  a  connoisseur,  but 
could  not  hold  a  pencil ;  I  could  handle  the  pencil,  but  I  knew 
nothing.     I  made  rapid  progress,  thanks  to  his  counsels. 


30  CAVE  S   MAN^UAL    OF    COLOE. 

What  eloquence,  wlien  he  spoke  of  art  and  everything  thai 
is  beautiful  in  nature !  With  his  words  he  painted  better 
than  the  greatest  artist  with  his  brushes. 

*'  On  the  other  hand,  he  showed  the  most  incredible  tender- 
ness and  generosity  for  my  daughters.  He  seemed  to  be 
recompensing  them  for  the  gayety  and  the  health  that  Gene- 
vieve had  found  in  their  society. 

"  You  can  understand  that  after  six  months  passed  in  this 
way,  to  separate  us  would  have  been  to  break  all  our  hearts. 
Then  it  was  that  my  marriage  with  the  Count  was  decided 
upon ;  five  months  later,  I  married  him. 

"  Some  other  day  I  will  tell  you  how  we  passed  those  five 
months,  the  finest  of  my  life. 

"  There  are  two  ways  of  being  beloved  and  happy ;  I  have 
known  them  both.  The  one  never  quits  the  earth,  the  other 
soars  ever  above  it."  M.  E,  0. 


FLESII-TIXTS.  31 


SIXTH  LETTER. 

LESSON  —  FLESn-TINTS. 

Yv^E  are  going  to  draw,  my  dear  Jiiiia,  several  beads ;  trace 
them,  Dot  on  the  wrong  side  but  on  the  right  side  of  j-our 
wash-paper,  and  then  stretch  the  sheet  upon  the  board. 

The  colors  of  your  palette  should  be  arranged  as  indicated 
on  the  model.* 

The  sheet  being  well  stretched,  let  us  go  over  the  draught 
of  our  heads  with  cobalt  blue  and  red  brown.  Tiiese  two 
tones  mixed  can  become  vigorous,  but  they  are  never  black 
or  hard;  besides,  they  do  not  hold  to  the  paper,  and  are 
easil}^  erased. 

We  will  then  model  our  faces  with  indigo,  as  we  have 
modeled  them,  in  washing,  with  gray. 

AVe  will  make  pale  ones  and  vigorous  ones. 

When  they  have  dried,  we  will  put  on  a  general  tone. 
This  will  be  the  luminous  tone  of  the  flesh.  The  complex- 
ion of  brunettes  being  darker  than  that  of  blondes,  we  will 
apply  dark  tints  to  the  heads  that  are  boldly  modeled,  and 
light  tints  to  the  others.  Yellow  ochre  and  vermilion  are 
the  colors  with  which  we  will  make  them  both.  But  in  what 
proportions  must  these  colors  be  mixed,  in  order  to  hit  upon 

*  There  are  some  new  colors,  in  tubes,  that  are  also  excellent.  Not 
more  than  half  the  pastel  should  be  put  on  the  palette. 


32 


the  light  or  the  dark  ?     Only  trials  upon  the  paper  can  teach 
us  that.    Look  at  nature^  and  endeavor  to  imitate  her. 

Sometimes  lake,  in  small  quantities,  succeeds  better  than 
yermiliou  ;  sometimes,  too,  ochre  alone  suffices. 

The  general  tone,  being  dried,  gives  us  light  and  half-tint 

The  shadows  remain  to  be  considered. 

Naples  yellow  mixed  with  a  little  burnt  sienna,  there  are 
3'our  shadows.  Sometimes  the  sienna  may  be  replaced  by  a 
little  vermilion,  or  a  little  lake. 

All  these  tones  are  found  in  nature.  They  need  only  to  )ye 
sought  for,  and  applied  in  an  accurate  manner.  When  you 
liavc  decided  upon  one  of  them,  apply  it  boldly  to  all  the 
shaded  part,  taking  great  care  to  spare  the  half-tint  that 
unites  the  shadow  to  the  light.  These  shade- tints  are  at  the 
same  time  tints  of  refiection.  We  make  use  of  them,  washing 
them  less,  however,  in  order  to  come  back  to  the  more  vigor- 
ous parts.  So  yellow  ochre  and  lake  give  the  yery  bold  parts 
under  the  nose,  under  the  chiu,  and  in  the  ears.  Do  3'OU 
wish  for  still  more  boldness  ?  Substitute  Italian  earth  for  the 
burnt  sienna. 

Lake  can  also  be  replaced  by  burnt  sienna.  Make  3^our 
attempts  in  the  presence  of  nature ;  with  a  little  tact,  you  will 
fuid  the  colors  to  be  chosen,  you  will  learn  the  proportions  in 
which  to  mix  them.     Obseiwation  alone  can  be  your  teacher. 

It  will  tell  you  that  it  is  with  vermilion  or  lake  in  small 
quantities  that  we  compose  the  rose  color  that  graces  the 
cheeks  of  youth.  Keep  on  trying  ;  the  cheeks  of  your  daugh- 
ters will  serve  as  models. 

Sometimes  a  very  light  pink  tone  will  successfully  blend 


FLESU-TIXTS.  33 

the  lialf-tint  with  the  light.     This  is  what  we  often  observe 
ill  the  pictures  of  Rubens. 

Reddish  brown  and  cobalt  blue  will  answer  for  going  over 
the  lines  that  have  become  too  light-colored. 

With  these  two  colors  it  is  that  black  eyes  are  painted. 

I  have  no  need  to  tell  you  which  one  we  keep  for  blue  eyes. 

Reddish  brown  will  do  for  the  bolder  parts  of  the  mouth, 
the  light  being  obtained  with  vermilion. 

There  you  have  all  my  secrets,  my  dear  friend.  With  nine 
colors,  indigo,  red  brown,  cobalt  blue,  yellow  ochre,  Italian 
earth,  sienna,  jSTaples  yellow,  vermilion,  and  lake,  we  can 
make  flesh-tints  like  Correggio  and  Rubens ;  rival  nature  in 
her  most  charming  creations ;  in  a  word,  paint  those  beauti- 
ful 3^oung  brunettes  or  blondes,  those  prett}^  ros}''  children, 
for  whom  the  art  of  water-colors  seems  to  have  been  invented. 
Is  it  not  marvellous? 

Tiike  note  that  I  say  the  art  of  water-colors.  It  does  not 
suffice  to  be  acquainted  w'ith  the  colors,  to  know  their  appli- 
cation, in  order  to  harmonize  them  as  nature  does  ;  observa- 
tion is  necessar}^  instinct,  taste  combined  with  experience. 
We  make  our  dishes  overdone  or  underdone  with  the  best  of 
farailj^  cook-books,  and  we  are  not  good  cooks  because  we 
do  not  know  the  condiments  of  a  dish.  (Pardon  me,  if  I  seek 
my  comparisons  in  the  kitchen  ;  painters,  who  are  no  ene- 
mies of  good  living,  nearh''  all  lay  claim  to  shine  in  it.)  We 
become  soup-makers,  we  are  born  roasters,  Brillat  Savarin 
has  said;  I  can  say  in  turn:  we  become  drawers,  we  are  born 
colorists.  What  my  son,  who  has  just  left  college,  translates 
by  nascuntur  j^oeta- 

I  do  not  address  my  remarks"^  here  to  every  mind,  as  I  did 
2* 


1 


34  CAVE  .S    MANUAL    OF    COLO]I. 

in  teaching-  draAving  from  memory.  Drawing-  is  a  language, 
Avhicli  we  speak  willi  more  or  less  pnrit}^  with  more  or  less 
style.  It  is  necessary,  it  can  alwaj's  be  applied  usefully,  lilie 
the  language  we  speak. 

But  color  is  poetry,  that  art  divine,  attainable  only  to 
choice  spirits,  that  moves,  transports  them,  and  gives  birth  to 
master-pieces. 

This  3'ou  need  not  tell  your  daughters  just  yet;  their 
young  souls  might  become  over-heated  ;  keep  them  still  in 
the  domain  of  prose,  all  the  while  teaching  them,  step  b}^ 
step,  the  processes  of  water-colors,  a  dry  enough  study,  but 
one  that  will  break  them  in  more  and  more  to  drawing  from 
memory,  which  they  must  know  above  all,  and  perfectly. 
At  first  I  wish  to  give  them  what  is  necessary ;  later  the}^ 
will  become  artists,  if  there  is  a  chance. 

Perhaps  j^ou  will  treat  me  as  a  twaddler,  seeing  that  I 
come  back  so  often  to  drawing  from  memory ;  but  what  can 
I  do  ?  I  write  these  lines  in  a  tremljle ;  I  fear  that  Mary  has 
not  resolution  enough  to  resist  the  fascinations  of  color  until 
she  can  give  herself  up  to  it  without  danger.  She  would 
only  be  added  to  the  category  of  miscarried  talents,  and  all 
my  trouble  would  be  lost.  To  you  I  confide  these  letters,  to 
you,  a  tender  and  prudent  mother;  watch  over  them  as  you 
watch  over  the  novels  that  your  daughters  are  not  old  enough 
to  read.  The  reading  of  these  might  be  equally  injurious  to 
them  ;  they  would  turn  to  the  novel,  and  not  to  the  reality; 
you  would  make  false  painters,  as  novels  make  false  women. 
Be  Avise,  like  nature,  that  is,  never  in  a  hurry.  The  pupils 
that  we  wish  to  show  off  before  the  time  are  like  hot-house 
plants,  that  die  as  soon  as  they  see  the  light.  M.  !&.  C. 


ATMOSPHERE,  35 


SEVEXTH  LETTER. 

REMARKS— ox   THE    ATMOSPHERE— ON    THE  ART  OF  DRESS- 
ING—ON   CONVENTIONAL  COLOR. 

^Iary  writes  me  tliat  she  lias  no  aptitude  for  color,  and 
that  she  is  rather  afraid  of  meddling  with  it  than  anxious  to 
employ  it.  I  have  read  this  passage  in  her  letter,  my  dear 
Julia,  with  pleasure.  This  timidity  proves  that  she  catches 
the  difficulties  of  the  art  she  is  stud3'ing,  the  characteristic 
of  an  observing  and  thoughtful  spirit. 

Innocence  feeding  a  serpent  is  an  emblem  the  philosophy 
of  which  few  persons  understand.  This  one  more,  this  one 
less,  we  are  all  innocents  on  a  thousand  occasions.  Those 
who  are  gifted  with  the  faculty  of  observing,  of  comparing, 
should  thank  heaven.  And  even  if  drawing  from  memory 
should  give  us  but  this  good  habit,  it  would  deserve  to  have 
altars  raised  in  its  honor.  Observation  and  comparison,  that 
is  the  whole  of  wisdom. 

I  will  then  praise  Mar}'-  for  having  noticed  that  to  put  at- 
mosphere behind  the  figures  is  the  principal  difficulty  of  a 
picture.  She  is  right  in  letting  it  engross  her  attention.  Ask 
her  whether  she  has  noticed  in  nature,  how,  when  several 
persons  are  assembled  in  a  parlor,  the  contour  of  each  indi- 
vidual stands  out  on  the  background.  Ask  her  whether  she 
sees  silhouettes  caught,  so  to  speak,  with  a  brass  wire,  as  in 
the  pictures  of  certain  painters.     Let  her  follow  alternately 


36  cave's  manual  of  color. 

the  contour  of  each  person.  She  ^vill  find  that  there  are 
places  wliere  the  hne  disappears  and  is  completely  lost  in  the 
shade;  but  she  will  find  it  again,  ver}^  clear,  a  little  way 
above,  very  slightl}-  marked  a  little  below,  varying  thus  all 
around  the  figure.  Well,  what  is  the  place  where  the  air  cir- 
culates the  most  ?  Behind  those  parts  of  the  contour  which 
are  undecided. 

The  more  diversifiedly  we  endeavor  to  bring  it  out  on  the 
background,  the  more  atmosphere  we  put  between  the  can- 
vas and  its  figure. 

Paul  Veronese,  who  excels  in  this  respect,  often  brings  out 
his  figures  by  the  tone  alone.  There  are  tones,  in  fact,  which 
recede,  and  tones  which  advance,  by  force  of  their  own 
value ;  so  yellow,  white,  and  red  take  the  foreground  before 
green,  violet,  and  gray ;  black,  too,  stands  out  by  reason  of 
its  vigor.  Generally,  mixed  colors  yield  to  primitive  ones  ;  so 
in  the  parlor,  the  women  who  do  not  wear  free  colors  are 
eclipsed  by  the  others ;  they  always  find  themselves  in  the 
background.  The  art  of  dress  is  the  first  step  in  the  art  of 
painting.  "B}^  the  way  in  which  a  woman  wears  colors,  we  can 
see  whether  she  has  the  feeling  of  a  colorist.  Not  everybody 
has  it.  For  instance,  pink  and  blue  are  the  fashion  ;  all  the 
women  wear  them  ;  well,  those  who  put  blue  bows  on  a 
rose-colored  dress  have  an  ordinary  look  ;  precisely  on  tho 
other  hand,  those  who  wear  roses  on  a  blue  dress  have  a  dis- 
tingue look.     Why  is  that  ? 

Nature  has  given  us  this  lessou  in  hamiouy.  It  is  the 
roses  that  stand  out  against  the  sky.  Whence  the  principle  ; 
a  little  pink  on  a  great  deal  of  blue.     The  observing  eye,  the 


CONVENTIONAL    COLOK.  3l 

colorist,  feels  this  Trithout  knowing  why.  He  also  knows 
that  green  harmonizes  with  all  shades,  because  all  flowers 
have  green  leaves.  Finally,  green  and  blue  do  not  go  to- 
gether. Observe  nature.  She  will  give  you  few  blue  flowers, 
and  their  leaves  are  never  of  a  free  green. 

She  teaches  us  ever3'thingwhen  we  know  how  to  observe 
her.  A  pretty  toilette  to-day  would  be  a  skirt  of  light  lilac 
taffeta  with  a  dark  lilac  cameo,  white  collar  and  sleeves,  the 
wiiole  relieved  b}^  a  j^ellow  ribbon  or  rose.  This  is  the 
decoration  of  the  iris.  Thus  arraj^ed,  sit  down  upon  an 
English  green  sofa,  and  if  you  are  the  least  bit  graceful, 
if  the  iris  has  the  least  bit  perfumed  your  toilette,  you 
will  appear  very  pretty,  especially  to  those  who  are  fond  of 
the  iris. 

What  charming  harmonies  upon  the  birds  and  the  flow- 
ers !  Colorists  delight  to  make  studies  of  them ;  thej'-  find 
here  their  gamut. 

This  is  what  Mary  will  do  when  she  commences  water- 
colors.  All  that  she  sees  about  her,  in  the  gardens,  in  the 
fields,  on  the  trees,  will  be  mirrored  in  her  mind  as  in  her 
eye.  Those  flying  flowers,  the  butterflies,  that  she  already 
loves  so  much,  will  become  still  dearer  to  her.  There  are 
caterpillars  whose  beauty  she  will  env}'- ;  she  will  envy  the 
verj'-  moss  on  which  they  creep,  when,  with  a  lens,  she  goes 
in  quest  of  delight  in  the  domain  of  those  animals  that  we 
trample  under  foot.  If  God  had  given  us  eyes  to  see  little 
things  in  all  their  details,  we  should  no  longer  dare  take  a 
step  in  the  country.  How  many  beings  on  the  earth  share 
the  fate  of  those  field  flowers  that  live  and  die  without  any 


88  cave's    MANL7AL    OF    COLOR. 

one's  dciguing  to  gather  or  to  look  at  theui !  However,  per- 
haps they  are  not  the  most  unfortunate. 

The  eyes  play  a  great  part  in  our  life.  This  is  why  I 
seek  to  perfect  them,  by  exercising  them,  by  teaching  them 
to  see.  and  to  see  well. 

But  let  us  return  to  color.  You  wish  to  know,  dear  friend, 
how,  in  painting,  we  place  the  pink  tone  between,  the  half- 
tint  and  the  light.  We  put  it  very  close  by  the  side  of  the 
blue  which  forms  the  half-tint.  By  exaggerating  it,  we  should 
produce  a  raiubow :  so  it  is  necessar}'-  to  be  sparing  of  it,  and 
to  make  use  of  it  only  in  certain  places,  where  we  feel  that 
something  is  wanthig.  However,  when  your  daughters  copy 
Babeus,  he  will  teach  them  this  secret ;  for  of  course  they 
will  copy  Babens. 

The  more  I  find  it  bad  to  copy  oil-paintings  in  oils,  the 
more  I  find  it  useful  to  cop}^  them  in  water-colors.  Here  is 
my  reason : 

Oil-colors  are  forbidding.  There  are  pictures  that  time 
has  rendered  absurd,  incomprehensible,  where  green  has  taken 
tlie  place  of  blue,  yellow  of  white,  blac\^  of  red.  Those  are 
not  the  ones  that  your  daughters  will  copy.  Bat  there  are 
also  some  in  which  time  has  happilj^  blended  the  tones,  and 
^vhich  remain  worthy  of  the  masters  who  painted  them. 
Still,  a  certain  coating  has  collected  on  them,  which  veils  the 
colors,  and  deceives  the  copyist  b}^  giving  him  a  false  gamut. 
His  judgment  then  errs  in  the  presence  of  nature,  and  he 
makes  conventional  color.  As  his  painting  becomes,  in  time, 
coated  in  tlie  same  way,  before  many  years  it  will  be  as  black 
as  the  pictures  of  a  century,  pictures  painted  with  colors  of 


COXVEXTIOXAL    COLOR.  39 

a  good  quality,  veiy  light,  veiy  blonde,  and  which,  neverthe- 
less, have  not  escaped  the  misfortune  of  blackening. 

As  water-colors,  on  the  contrary,  blanch,  they  can  be  made 
xevj  vigorous.  They  will  become  clearer  by  the  very  nature 
of  their  colors,  which  are  transparent  on  paper.  "Water-color 
studies  from  oil-paintings  of  old  and  modern  masters  are, 
then,  an  excellent  practice. 

But  what  is  doubtless  going  to  astonish  you,  I  will  not 
permit  Mary  to  copy  from  w^ater-colors.  I  prohibit  her  from 
doing  so,  because  I  have  noticed  that  pupils  are  always  dis- 
posed to  imitate  the  stroke  of  the  brush  and  to  appropriate  it 
to  themselves.  jSTow,  if  I  have  any  one  antipathy,  it  is  for 
this  sort  of  imitation,  which  kills  all  originality  :  hence  my 
pupils  have  a  character  which  is  peculiar  to  them  ;  they  have 
not  the  tcay  of  doing  things  of  any  painter. 

Those  who  paint  in  oils  make  a  wise  beginning  b}^  making 
copies  from  water-colors.  The  manner  of  painting  being 
diifei-ent,  they  do  not  run  the  risk  of  borrowing  the  touch  of 
another ;  their  touch  must  belong  to  them,  provided  they  are 
to  have  one ;  this  we  shall  see  hereafter. 

Commence  with  water-colors,  all  ye  who  Avish  to  succeed 
in  painting.  Thej'  are  not  easier  to  handle,  but  they  are 
taught  and  learned  more  readily.  They  are  quick  in  giving 
qualities  which  we  are  long  in  finding  in  the  studios  of  paint- 
ers ;  first,  precision,  for  it  is  impossible  to  go  over  the  fiesh- 
tiuts  without  spoiling  them.  They  even  force  you  to  color, 
because  the  preparations  which  precede  them  on  the  paper 
render  them  more  positive,  and  imprint  them  with  greater 
truthfulness.     So,  nothing  is  more  profitable  for  painters  than 


CAVE  S    MAIN^UAL    OF    COLOR. 


making  the  sketches  of  their  pictures  in  water-colors.  In 
proportion  as  we  advance  in  our  lessons,  we  shall  recognize 
the  truth  and  the  advantages  of  this  principle. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  manner  of  painting  stuffs,  one 
word  more  about  the  tones  that  match.  Let  us  take  up  the 
flowers  again  and  put  together  some  toilettes.  What  a 
beautiful  adjustment  you  can  make  with  the  pansy!  A 
mantle  of  violet  velvet,  a  dress  of  light  violet  satin,  a  hat  of 
yellow  satin  and  black  velvet,  with  white  sleeves  and  collar 
— what  a  beautiful,  sober  costume.  As  the  pansy  has  no 
perfume,  we  will  not  use  any. 

But  you  will  not  forget  the  perfume  of  the  rose,  when  you 
wish  to  decorate  yourself,  after  its  image,  in  a  dress  of  dark 
green  taffeta,  a  caraco  of  delicate  green,  a  straw  hat  orna- 
mented with  rose-colored  ribbons,  white  sleeves  and  stoma- 
cher. 

Have  you  observed  how  a  straw  hat  always  gives  the  fin- 
ishing touch  to  the  toilette?  The  reason  of  it  is  simple 
enough  :  nearly  all  flowers  have  a  little  yellow ;  hence,  yel- 
low, like  green,  produces  a  good  effect  with  all  the  other 
colors.  Are  you  not,  like  me,  indignant  at  the  audacity  of 
horticulturists  who  have  produced  the  double  daisy  ?  A  fine 
improvement !  The  daisy !  The  most  smiling  of  flowers ! 
They  are  going  to  make  a  Kational  Guard  top-knot  of  it,  by 
taking  from  it  the  pretty  yellow  ring,  around  which  its 
petals  grouped  themselves !  Those  petals  that  we  pluck  out 
one  by  one,  in  our  youth,  to  know  whether  we  are  still  loved 
by  the  absent  one.  Nowadays,  three  hours  would  be  needed 
to  pluck  the  leaves  of  a  daisy— three  hours  to  know  whether 


CONYENTIONAL   COLOE.  41 

we  are  still  loved !    As  well  take-  the  railroad,  to  go  and 
assure  ourselves  positively. 

Thus,  from  improvement  to  improvement,  poetry  is  forsak- 
ing this  world.  Since  I  have  spoken  of  railroads,  is  there 
anything  less  poetical  than  those  long,  partitioned  boxes, 
rolling  without  horses,  so  regularly,  with  such  a  monotonous 
noise,  that,  on  our  arrival,  we  examine  ourselves,  we  invol- 
untarily feel  ourselves,  to  see  whether  we  are  not  woven  or 
knit,  whether  we  have  not  become  broadcloth  or  stockings, 
such  a  sensation  have  we  had  of  passing  from  the  condition 
of  a  man  to  that  of  a  thing. 

But  this  letter  is  growing  too  long.  I  take  leave  of  you, 
my  dear  Julia,  as  well  as  of  those  flowers,  those  butterflies, 
those  birds,  by  means  of  which  I  have  given  your  daughters 
the  secret  of  combining  pretty  toilettes.  Their  cleverness, 
or,  rather  their  coquetry,  will  enable  them  to  make,  every 
season,  new  discoveries.  They  are  going  to  take  a  little 
course  of  botany  and  natural  history.  The  aim  will  be  a 
little  frivolous,  it  is  true;  but  why  should  we  not  seek  to 
amuse  ourselves  at  work  ?  Has  not  the  Creator  placed  plea- 
sure by  the  side  of  the  most  serious  things?  Would  the 
family  exist  without  love?  Starting  from  this  principle, 
which  I  always  derive  from  the  Great  Source,  we  will  learn 
water-colors,  like  drawing,  with  the  least  possible  ennui. 

M.  I:.  C. 


42  cave's  manual  of  color. 


EIGHTH   LETTER 


LESSON— THE  HAIE. 


Before  directing  our  attention  to  drapery,  let  us  take  up 
the  hair. 

The  rules  that  I  lay  down  for  you,  my  dear  Julia,  are  not 
written  anywhere.  They  are  not  taught  in  studios.  I  am 
indebted  for  my  knowledge  of  them  to  my  observations  in 
nature,  and  to  my  studies  in  the  practice  of  my  art.  The  pu- 
pils will  understand  them  well,  only  by  applying  them  them- 
selves ;  for  it  is  impossible,  by  explanation,  to  attain  perfect 
precision,  to  fix  the  proportions  of  the  colors  in  an  exact 
manner,  in  view  of  such  diverse  variations  in  the  shades  of 
objects.  The  experience  of  the  pupils,  then,  and  their  essays, 
must  come  to  the  assistance  of  the  professor's  lessons. 

Blonde  hah'  is  modeled  with  a  very  light  tone  of  ivory- 
black  and  indigo.  Sometimes  the  ivory-black  will  suffice, 
sometimes  the  indigo.  You  pass  over  it  a  general  tone  of 
Naples  yellow  or  yellow  ochre. 

"  When  the  general  tone,  which  is  the  tone  of  the  light,  is 
made  by  yellow  ochre,  the  shadows  are  produced  by  lake  and 
Naples  yellow  ;  and  when  it  is  made  by  Naples  yellow,  we 
must,  in  order  to  draw  the  colors,  employ  yellow  ochre  and 
Italian  earth. 

For  chestnut  hair,  Naples  yellow,  lake,  and  even  cobalt 


THE    HAIE.  43 

blue,  are  introduced  into  the  general  lone,  and,  in  the  shad- 
ows, Italian  earth  mixed  with  these  first  tones. 

Very  black  hair,  the  lights  of  which  are  blue,  is  made 
with  warm  tints,  such  as  sienna,  lake,  bitumen.  The  general 
tone  is  made  with  indigo,  and  the  shadows  touched  up  with 
Italian  earth  and  lake. 

A  general  rule  :  warm-tinted  hair  is  made  with  cold  tints, 
and  cold  hair  with  warm  tints.  This  rule  is  applicable  to  all 
preparations ;  it  would,  of  itself,  suffice  to  guide  the  pupils 
whom  nature  has  made  colorists. 

There  is  such  a  diversity  in  the  shades  of  hair,  that  great 
cleverness  is  needed  in  varying  the  value  of  the  tones  indi- 
cated for  preparations.  By  the  value  of  a  tone,  we  mean  its 
relative  force.  With  regard  to  the  tone  of  the  light,  we  must 
make  it  such  as  we  see  it. 

Kow  it  is,  my  dear  Julia,  that  you  are  about  to  recognize 
how  essential  precision  is  in  drawing  the  light.  A  head  is 
not  round,  you  already  know,  unless  the  light  is  perfectly 
true.  When  the  recollections  of  observation  do  not  come  to 
the  assistance  of  the  pupil's  intelligence,  hair  will  be  an 
impossibility ;  for  it  is  of  prime  necessity  that  it  should  be 
correctly  attacked,  right  off,  without  hesitation.  As  I  have 
"said,  this  is  the  grand  difficulty  in  water-colors  ;  we  can  not 
correct  the  drawing  without  injuring  the  color. 

However,  practice  with  the  charcoal  teaches  us  so  well 
how  to  catch  the  form  of  the  lights  and  shades,  that,  for 
Mary  and  Eliza,  the  difficulty  will  no  longer  be  anything  but 
play. 

You  will  observe  that  the  tones  that  I  have  just  indi- 


44  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 

cated,  except  the  bitumen  and  ivory-black,  are  the  same  as 
those  that  we  have  employed  for  the  flesh-tints.  And  even 
the  bitumen  is  sometimes  necessary  for  the  visual  point,  and 
ivory-black  is  mixed  with  the  indigo  to  produce  very  fair 
flesh-tints,  like  those  of  children  in  our  northern  countries. 
Often,  then,  the  hair  and  the  flesh-tints  can  be  prepared 
together ;  and  even  the  shadows  of  the  hair  are  the  same  as 
those  of  the  flesh,  in  the  beautiful  transparent  creatures  that 
Rubens  delighted  to  portray. 

In  passing  from  hair  to  stufl's,  we  find,  as  a  rule  of  draw- 
ing, the  same  principle :  the  form  of  the  light  indicates  the 
quality.  The  finer  the  hair,  the  more  brilliant  it  is ;  conse- 
quently, the  closer  the  light  becomes.  In  satin,  the  light  is 
also  very  close,  as  your  daughters  know.  Thus,  it  has  natu- 
rally become  a  form  of  speech  to  speak  of  the  hairs  of  satin. 
The  form  of  the  light  indicates  the  quality  of  the  cloth,  I 
have  said.  In  fact,  it  is  not  by  color  that  satin  or  wool  is 
made ;  it  is  by  the  drawing.  Have  you  not  seen  your  daugh- 
ters make  satin  dresses  with  charcoal,  just  as  the  engravers 
make  them  with  the  graver  ? 

I  repeat  it :  to  your  daughters,  who  will  not  touch  colors, 
except  with  a  perfect  knowledge  of  drawing,  water-colors 
will  offer  little  difficulty.  They  will  make  studies  that  will 
astonish  the  first  artists ;  for,  between  us,  if  my  principles 
are  well  understood  and  well  applied,  however  poor  a  water- 
color  may  be,  no  one  will  ever  believe  that  it  is  the  work  of 
a  pupil.  Tour  daughters,  perhaps,  will  not  be  colorists, 
perhaps  they  will  not  attain  to  the  poetry  of  color,  like  the 
masters ;  but  they  will  still  have  learned  much ;  they  will 


THE    HAIE.  4:B 

appreciate  the  master-pieces  of  art.  The  elegance,  the  stylish- 
ness of  their  toilette  and  their  house,  will  be  remarked ;  for, 
as  soon  as  a  matter  of  taste  comes  in  question,  the  last  of 
painters  is  still  the  first  of  men. 

Do  not  let  Eliza,  your  sculptor,  think  that  she  can  dis- 
pense with  water-colors.  The  sculptors  who  know  how  to 
paint,  know  how  to  color  their  statuary.  Look  at  Michael 
Angelo.  To  separate,  in  education,  color  from  drawing, 
would  be  a  mistake.  More  remains  of  what  we  learn  than 
we  suppose :  the  seed,  that  we  think  is  lost  in  the  ground, 
will  rise  up  sooner  or  later.  The  lessons  taken  in  youth 
have  roots  like  that  boarding-school  friendship  which  will 
end  only  with  ourselves. 

M.  t^.  C. 


46  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 


NINTH   LETTER 

REMARKS— BRUNETTES  AND  BLONDES  — TALL  MEN  AND 
SHORT  MEN— OPPOSITES. 

You  reproacli  me,  my  dear  Julia,  with  having  forgotten 
red  hair.  The  omission  is  almost  ingratitude ;  for  nothing 
seems  prettier  to  me  than  hair  of  a  reddish  brown,  with 
black  eyes  and  lashes.  But  how  does  it  happen  that  this  is 
a  disputed  beauty  ?  Why  is  this  color  admired  in  dress,_  in 
flowers,  in  the  sky,  yet  condemned  when  it  lends  its  lustre  to 
the  hair  ?  Is  it  not  also  the  work  of  God  ?  There  is  a  preju- 
dice here  that  I  cannot  explain.  Must  we  believe  that  it 
was  at  first  considered  as  a  great  privilege,  but  that  later  the 
blondes  and  the  brunettes,  men  and  women,  wiio  are  in  a 
majority,  have  become  jealous  of  it  and  thrown  it  into  dis- 
credit ? 

Painters  have  no  share  in  this  injustice ;  nearly  all  their 
women  are  blonde  or  red-haired,  their  children  blonde  or  red- 
haired.  These  tones,  in  fact,  harmonize  better  with  delicate 
flesh-tints :  the  ensemble  produced  is  more  pleasing  to  the 
eye. 

Kevertheless,  we  are  mistaken  if  we  imagine  that  in 
adopting  this  color  we  paint  weak  creatures.  We  paint 
charming  creatures,  that  is  all.  In  general,  blondes  have 
more  will  than  brunettes  ;  what  they  wish  they  wish  better, 
but  they  wish  it  with  a  gentle  will  which  does  not  startle 
men,  which  is  not  even  suspected  by  them.    The  husband 


BKUNETTES  AND   BLONDES.  47 

of  a  blonde  is  confident  of  being  master,  and  often  he  is  not ; 
whereas  the  husband  of  a  brunette,  who  is  always  afraid  of 
not  being  master,  almost  always  is.  Do  we  not  say,  on 
seeing  a  brunette  with  black  eyes:  "There  goes  a  witch 
that  must  lead  her  husband  by  the  nose  !  "  People  will  al- 
ways be  the  dupes  of  appearances. 

It  is  the  same  with  men,  those  who,  by  virtue  of  their 
character  and  their  physique,  really  deserve  that  name. 
First-class  men  never  annoy  their  wives  on  the  subject  of  their 
authority ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are  well  content  to  let  them- 
selves be  led  by  their  wives,  provided  it  is  done  gently,  and 
that  they  do  not  feel  their  chains.  It  is  so  natural  to  obey 
the  feebfe  creature  that  we  protect,  to  elevate  the  loved  one 
by  this  daily  condescension,  making  her  happy  by  flattering 
her  pride.  Insignificant  men,  on  the  contrary,  wish  to  be 
masters ;  they  need  some  sort  of  superiority,  and  are  vain  of 
the  name  of  domestic  tyrants.  On  the  other  hand,  are  not 
large  men  nearly  always  very  gentle  with  their  wives  ?  They 
are  conscious  of  their  strength,  and  have  no  need  of  speaking 
in  a  gruff  voice,  or  of  frowning,  to  put  on  the  airs  of  au- 
thority. JSTot  so  with  small  men,  who  like  to  make  up  for 
their  physical  defects  by  that  arrogance  and  unaccommodat- 
ing disposition  which  I  call  conjugal  despotism,  and  which 
turns  the  household  into  a  veritable  civil  war.  As  an  intelli- 
gent mother  of  two  daughters,  created  in  your  image,  you 
will  be  careful,  I  am  sure,  not  to  marry  them  to  blockheads 
or  abortions.  It  is  innate  in  these  monsters  to  be  always 
seeking  an  opportunity  of  revenging  themselves  for  their 
inferiority. 


48  gate's  manual  of  coloe. 

Still,  weakness  is  painted  fair,  and  strength  dark-com- 
plexioned. In  the  pictures  of  the  legend.  Blue  Beard  is  of 
a  colossal  size  ;  of  Cleopatra,  who  was  mignonne^  I  have  seen 
a  portrait  that  was  five  feet  six  inches  tall.  Future  painters 
will  not  fail  to  make  a  giant  of  Kapoleon.  Even  now,  see 
what  Gerard  has  done  with  him  in  painting  the  crossing  of 
the  Alps — a  cavalier  vigorously  managing  a  fiery  steed,  in- 
stead of  a  little  man  pensively  sitting  upon  a  mule.  And  it 
must  be  so.  It  is  not  the  mission  of  art  to  rectify  popular 
mistakes.  It  accepts  prejudices,  and  is  governed  by  appear- 
ances, which  are  themselves  often  prejudices.  In  a  word,  it 
has  only  to  do  with  visible  things,-  and  speaks  only  to  the  eye, 
without  running  foul  of  received  opinions.  Thus  painting 
and  sculpture,  fair  deceivers,  give  to  great  men,  to  heroes,  the 
appearance  of  strength  and  grandeur,  although  nature,  taking 
delight  in  the  opposition  of  contraries,  has  made  them  insig- 
nificant and  small. 

But  this  law  of  opposites  in  the  material  world  is  also 
our  law,  for  we  shall  fare  badly  if  we  do  not  follow  nature. 
Color  especially  lives  by  opposites.  And  to  speak  of  red 
hair,  which  brought  on  this  long  digression,  do  you  know 
what  we  employ  to  model  it  ?  Indigo.  Now  the  most  op- 
posite color  to  red  is  blue.  Harmony  of  tone  lies  in  con- 
trasts. You  recall  our  studies  in  flowers?  In  those  called 
forget-me-nots,  which  have  a  beautiful  blue,  we  found  orange- 
colored  stamens,  and  admired  the  happy  effect  produced  by 
this  union. 

How  could  we,  in  a  picture,  place  several  figures  along- 
side of  one  another,  unless  we  observed  the  same  harmonies  ? 


OPPOSITES.  49 

This  is  the  fixed  rule  of  Paul  Veronese  and  Correggio, 
When  you  come  to  Paris,  you  will  take  your  daughters  to 
the  pictures  of  these  masters.  The  "  Marriage  in  Cana  "  and 
"  Antiope,"  master-pieces  of  coloring,  will  seem  to  them  to 
have  borrowed  from  the  flowers  the  happy  selection  of  their 
tones,  so  effectively  and  at  the  same  time  so  harmoniously  are 
they  colored.  In  "  Antiope  "  they  will  see,  as  I  told  you  in 
my  second  letter,  how  the  light  shades  off  little  by  little, 
starting  from  the  brightest  point,  which  we  call  the  sun.  In 
the  "  Marriage  in  Cana,"  the  same  effect ;  only,  the  composi- 
tion being  immense,  the  light  is  more  widely  spread,  and  ad- 
justs itself  admirably  in  rebounding  upon  other  less  lumi- 
nous points. 

How  many  amateurs  have  passed  before  these  pictures 
without  understanding  the  genius  that  animated  them. 
How  many  artists  even  have  appreciated  their  eminent  quali- 
ties only  after  years  of  study.  Because  nowadays  there  is 
really  no  education  for  the  artist.  Each  painter  will  tell  you 
that  he  has  invented  painting,  that  nobody  has  taught  him 
anything.  This  is  only  too  true.  But  the  fault  is  with  the  pu- 
pils, or  rather  with  the  century.  Since  kings  are  no  longer  re- 
spected, masters  are  not.  Pride  has  gone  to  our  head.  For- 
merly masters  loved  to  initiate  their  young  apprentices  into 
all  their  secrets ;  they  made  them  their  assistants ;  between 
them  there  was  the  friendship  of  father  and  child  ;  the  pupil 
worked  on  the  picture  of  his  professor,  but  did  not  for  all 
that  think  himself  professor.  To-day,  if  a  pupil  touches  his 
master's  picture,  he  goes  away  and  tells  everybody  that  he 

made  the  picture.    Consequently  the  bond  that  united  them 
3 


50 


is  soon  broken.  The  young  blunderer  is  left  to  bis  own 
wings,  and,  like  the  bird  that  has  left  its  mother's  nest  too 
soon,  he  falls  down  and  down  to  the  saddest  end. 

That  is  why  modern  art  is  below  ancient  art. 

And  what  is  society  becoming  ?  Legal  equality  is  an  ad- 
mirable principle ;  in  wishing  to  extend  it  to  everything,  we 
make  an  absurdity  of  it.  Nature  has  not  made  men  equal. 
She  has  created  the  strong  to  protect  the  weak,  the  weak  to 
love  the  strong.  The  modern  system  of  equality  makes  none 
but  envious  persons ;  no  more  respect,  consequently  no  more 
affection,  for  there  is  no  kind  of  love  without  respect. 

One  hope  is  still  left  us.  The  human  reason,  which  has 
its  moments  of  aberration,  cannot  fail  to  return  to  the  right 
road.  A  minister  no  longer  writes  to  his  employe :  "  Citizen, 
I  discharge  thee  from  thy  functions,  greeting  and  fraternity." 
Which  was  the  same  as  saying:  "I  condemn  thee  to  die  of 
hunger.    Thy  brother." 

Perhaps  it  is  in  our  power,  dear  Julia,  to  come  to  the  help 
of  diseased  society.  Let  us  take  possession  of  the  arts,  re- 
jected nowadays  for  politics  or  adventurous  undertakings. 
Without  making  your  daughters  blue-stockings,  let  us  teach 
them  to  create  little  chefs-cCceuDre  that  will  recall  men  to  the 
desire  to  create  grand  ones.  The  love  of  the  arts,  the  sweet 
pleasures  that  they  procure,  will  restore  them  to  the  society 
of  women,  from  which  they  are  becoming  more  and  more 
estranged,  and  it  will  not  be  said  that  the  French  women 
have  suffered  Frenchmen  to  become  Englishmen. 

M.  'k.  c. 


BLACK   AISTD   WHITE    STUFFS.  61 

TENTH  LETTER. 

LESSON— BLACK  AND  WHITE  STUFFS. 

You  know,  my  dear  Julia,  that  we  always  say :  "  I  am 
going  to  wear  colors,"  wlien  we  leave  off  a  white  or  a  black 
dress.  In  fact,  black  and  white  are  the  absence  of  all  color. 
Nevertheless,  in  order  to  make  myself  understood,  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  say :  black  color,  white  color,  although  that  is  an 
absurdity. 

The  shadows  of  black  and  of  white  are  highly  colored. 

But  the  rule  as  to  the  harmony  of  opposites  is  going  to 
reveal  itself  to  you  in  all  its  conclusiveness. 

White  stuffs  are  prepared  with  a  gray  tone  of  ivory-black. 
The  opposite  of  white  is  certainly  black.  Do  we  not  say : 
changing  from  white  to  black,  meaning  an  utter  change  ? 

Your  daughters,  who  are  teachable,  who  know  that  each 
one  of  my  lessons  has  its  practical  utility,  and  that  it  would 
be  impossible,  after  having  neglected  one  of  them,  to  compre- 
hend the  next  one  —  your  daughters  almost  know  how  to 
execute  white  stuffs,  since,  according  to  my  directions,  they 
have  washed  their  draperies  according  to  their  old  engrav- 
ings. 

Spread  the  gray  half-tint  of  ivory-black  everywhere,  scru- 
pulously preserving  the  light :  that  is  the  method  for  wash- 
ing the  whites. 

Brilliant  stuffs,  such  as  satin,  have  bold  shadows;  the 


52  caye's  ma:n^ual  of  color. 

ninth  lesson  in  Drawing  lias  told  us  that  "  Now,  bold  shad- 
ows are  obtained  with  a  little  bitumen,  adding  a  little  Naples 
yellow  in  the  reflected  shadows.  Sometimes  burnt  sienna 
replaces  the  bitumen." 

The  whites  are  made  such  as  we  see  them.  They  are 
prepared,  as  I  have  said,  with  ivory-black,  which  gives  a 
gray  tone.  The  preparation  for  shadows  is  the  opposite 
tone  to  that  of  light.  Always  our  rule  of  opposites,  observed 
by  all  colorists. 

"When  the  white  is  gilded,  as  in  woolen  stuffs,  take  a  gene- 
ral tone  of  yellow  ochre,  or  Naples  yellow.  Then  the  prepa- 
ration should  be  mixed  with  ivory-black  or  indigo. 

From  the  whites  let  us  pass  to  the  blacks  ;  they  are  the 
two  master-tones.  I  will  tell  you,  further  on,  why  they  are 
thus  called. 

Black  stuffs  are  made  with  very  warm  tones,  such  as  bitu- 
men, lake,  burnt  sienna.  When  the  drapery  is  well  modelled, 
well  drawn  with  one  of  these  tones,  the  tone  of  the  light 
must  be  sought.  The  colder  the  light,  the  warmer  should  be 
the  preparation. 

The  tone  of  the  light  should  be  laid  over  the  entire  dra- 
pery.    This  is  why  we  call  it  the  general  tone. 

When  well  dry,  which  is  essential,  go  over  the  bolder 
shadows  with  the  same  tone.  Do  not  forget  that  you  must 
get  your  black  tone  without  black.  Black  is  only  used  in 
the  light.    Note  well  this  remark,  which  is  an  important  one. 

In  satin  stuffs,  the  lights  are  white.  It  is  the  half-tint  that 
gives  the  tone.    This  is  a  general  rule  that  I  shall  not  repeat. 

Thus,  after  having  attacked  the  shadows,  a  general  tone 


BLACK    AND    WHITE    STUFFS.  53 

is  passed  over  the  whole,  the  small  lights  being  carefully 
spared.  This  general  tone  becomes  the  half-tint,  and  yet  it  is 
always  the  tone  of  the  stuff:  it  is  pink,  if  the  satin  is  pink; 
black,  if  the  satin  is  black. 

For  black  velvet  the  preparation  is  made  with  the  same 
warm  colors;  but,  instead  of  using  lightly  ivory-black,  in 
order  to  lay  on  the  general  tone,  a  darkish  peach-black  must 
be  used.  The  very  bold  parts  must  always  be  gone  over 
with  the  warm,  tones.  The  lights  of  velvet  are  exceptional: 
they  are  picked  out  by  drawing  with  a  little  water  on  the  end 
of  the  brush,  and  then  rubbing  with  a  bit  of  linen.  Peach- 
black  adheres  to  the  paper  very  slightly,  and  disappears  im- 
mediately, leaving  a  light  such  as  velvet  calls  for.  We  get 
it  more  or  less  brilliant,  according  as  we  erase.  For  in- 
stance, by  wetting  a  second  time  and  letting  it  dry  a  little, 
rubbing  with  some  force,  we  obtain  a  pure  white. 

Practice  it  is  that  gives  knowledge.  So,  my  dear  Julia , 
I  advise  you  to  make  your  daughtei-s  take  a  piece  of  each 
kind  of  stuff,  in  order  to  try  for  themselves  each  process.  I 
cannot  go  into  a  mass  of  petty  details.  Whatever  I  may  do 
to  make  myself  clear,  I  feel  that  these  dry  lessons  need  to  be 
put  in  practice  in  order  to  be  understood.  I  can  only  set 
my  pupils  on  the  right  road  ;  their  own  sense  will  guide  them. 

Thus,  how  can  I  explain  reflection  ?  It  varies,  first  ac- 
cording to  the  stuff,  then  according  to  the  object  that  re- 
flects. I  cannot  then  indicate  its  color ;  I  must  confine  my- 
self to  saying  that  it  is  sometimes  picked  out  by  proceeding 
as  though  for  velvet,  at  others  by  passing  a  bright  tone  over 
a  bold  tone,  as  in  oil-painting. 


64 


White,  Naples  yellow,  vermilion,  cobalt  blue,  red  brown, 
yellow  ocbre,  etc.,  are  the  colors  used  for  ^r^^wacAm^y*  by  mix- 
ing them  with  others,  we  obtain  the  desired  tones  of  reflec- 
tion. Another  general  rule,  to  which  I  shall  not  need  to 
revert. 

I  have  told  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  white  and  black 
were  master-tones.  With  them  alone,  one  can  make  a  pic- 
ture. Great  painters  have  proved  it:  Van  Dyck,  among 
others,  has  made  chefs-d'ceuDre  with  figures  dressed  wholly  in 
white  or  in  black.  Two  such  powerful  colors  are  they,  that 
we  can  say  that  women  who  wear  other  colors  sacrifice 
themselves  to  those  dressed  in  black  or  in  white.  This  is 
certainly  not  their  intention ;  that  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  ; 
but  one  grows  weary  of  her  white  dress  or  her  black  dress, 
and  yields  to  an  imperative  need  of  change.  Woman  is  con- 
stituted so :  she  forsakes  a  dress  that  becomes  her  for  one 
that  does  not ;  but  she  looks  different.  Rarely  does  she  dress 
two  successive  days  in  the  same  manner :  she  must  change 
something,  were  it  but  a  ribbon.  Hence,  the  great  variety 
in  our  fashions;  whereas,  the  costume  of  those  gentlemen 
differs  each  year,  at  the  utmost,  by  the  change  of  a  short- 
waisted  vest  to  a  long-waisted,  a  high-crowned  hat  to  a  low- 
crowned.  And  they  will  not  alter  it  a  particle  when  they. 
have  us  on  their  arms,  dressed  a  la  Grecque,  which  is  soon  to 
take  place.  Yes,  dear  friends,  it  appears  that  we  are  going 
to  return  to  natural  beauty,  the  beauty  of  sweeping  lines, 
and  to  give  our  husbands  the  pleasure  of  adorning  their 
goddesses  in  their  true  costume.  On  the  strength  of  which 
I  embrace  you.  M.  Ij.  0. 


*  To  put  in  a  body  color. 


65 


ELEYEKTH  LETTER. 

REMARKS  —  DRAWING  IN   COLOR  —  COLOR   IN    SCULPTURE, 

I  AM  glad,  my  dear  Julia,  your  experience  comes  to  the 
assistance  of  mine  in  the  task  that  I  have  undertaken.  Our 
studies  in  water-colors  will  make  you  comprehend  more  and 
more  how  important  it  is  to  be  able  to  draw  perfectly  before 
taking  up  a  brush.  I  see  it,  for  you  are  alarmed  at  all  tho 
knowledge  you  must  have  in  order  not  to  spoil  the  form  in 
putting  on  the  color,  and  you  are  very  right. 

Color  is  of  itself  very  delicate ;  it  must  be  handled  with 
freedom.  If  the  color  does  not  indicate  the  form  with  accu- 
racy, we  run  the  risk  of  losing  the  color  by  correcting  the 
form ;  for,  as  there  are  projections  and  depressions,  which  are 
the  whole  of  drawing,  so  also  there  are  tones  which  advance, 
and  tones  which  recede,  and  which  are  the  whole  of  color. 

The  color  then  can  destroy  the  drawing,  and  the  drawing 
the  color. 

The  great  difficulty  in  making  them  keep  pace  has  given 
rise  to  two  schools ;  the  school  of  drawers,  and  the  school  of 
colorists.  The  one  sacrifices  to  the  god  of  drawing,  the  other 
to  the  god  of  color.  This  would  not  be  so,  if  both  could  draw 
perfectly  from  memory.  But,  as  I  have  said,  the  means 
hitherto  employed  for  teaching  drawing  demand  too  much 
time.  Besides,  this  art  has  not,  like  the  art  of  speaking  and 
writing  one's  native  language,  been  made  one  of  the  elements 


56 


of  education.  Unquestionably,  one  is  not  a  painter  because 
lie  knows  how  to  draw,  any  more  than  one  is  a  poet  because 
he  knows  how  to  write.  All  have  the  gift  of  being  able  to 
hold  a  pen,  a  pencil ;  but  only  a  few  have  the  gift  of  imagi- 
nation, of  genius.  If  poetical  ideas  develop  themselves  in  a 
man,  if  he  feels  himself  to  be  a  poet,  he  has  no  need  to  study 
grammar,  he  knows  how  to  write  in  his  language,  he  can 
take  his  flight ;  nothing  arrests  his  genius.  On  the  contrary, 
when  a  man  feels  himself  to  be  a  painter,  he  must  commence 
by  studying  the  grammar  of  his  art,  for  he  does  not  know 
how  to  draw.  "Well,  one  of  two  things  happens  :  either  his 
genius  prevents  him  from  studying  profitably,  or  his  studies 
chill  his  genius.  For  there  are  two  well  defined  ages  in 
man  ;  one  where  he  takes,  one  where  he  gives.  During  the 
period  of  his  growth,  he  feeds  on  the  ideas  of  others  ;  then  he 
learns.  But  his  growth  once  arrested,  he  wishes  to  produce ; 
then  he  no  longer  learns.  This  is  the  order  of  nature ;  it 
must  be  obeyed. 

Whence  I  draw  the  conclusion  that  drawing  should  bo 
earnestly  learned  in  youth,  and  that  it  should  become  a  popu- 
lar art,  like  the  art  of  writing. 

The  Government  should  think  of  this. 

Whence  comes  the  decline  of  the  arts  ?  From  this,  that 
for  a  long  time  past,  each  generation  has  been  thrown  upon  a 
single  track,  that  of  literature.  There  is  another,  that  of  the 
arts,  which  may  be  thrown  open  to  many  minds ;  it  is  not 
even  pointed  out  to  the  youth,  whereas  their  access  to  it 
should  be  facilitated.  The  arts  do  not  lead  nations  to  dis- 
order.   They  render  them  happy  and  celebrated. 


DRAWING   IN^   COLOR.  57 

As  a  painter,  I  have  great  cliflSculty  in  explaining  to  my- 
self this  exclusive  preference  for  the  art  of  writing,  when  I 
consider  that  of  the  entire  heritage  of  the  primitive  races,  we 
have  left  to  us  only  objects  of  art,  monuments,  which  we 
nunt  up,  which  we  preserve  at  great  expense.  It  is  by  means 
of  them  that  we  distinguish  civilized  nations  in  antiquity, 
and  succeed  in  retracing  their  history.  And  of  all  those 
persons  who  study  and  admire  them,  whether  abroad  or  in 
our  museums,  not  one  comes  and  says  to  the  ministers  of 
public  instruction :  "  Cause  the  art  of  drawing  to  be  taught 
in  all  your  colleges,  not  according  to  the  caprice  of  the  pupils, 
not  as  an  art  of  amusement,  but  seriously,  as  a  useful  art." 
Art  speaks  when  history  is  silent.  The  history  of  the  tower 
of  Babel  is  to  be  repeated  at  intervals  appointed  of  God. 
After  each  confusion  of  tongues,  what  can  there  remain  of 
the  past?  Buildings,  objects  of  art,  which  alone  speak  to 
the  eye,  which  re-link  the  chain  of  time,  and  continue  on 
humanity  by  tradition. 

Eliza,  our  sculptor  pupil,  must  not,  on  perusing  these 
lines,  yield  to  the  desire  to  model.  The  time  for  that  has  not 
yet  come.  "We  must  firmly  insist  on  her  learning  water- 
colors.  Let  her  know  that,  later,  a  few  lessons  will  suffice 
for  teaching  her  modelling.  I  have  known  a  painter  who, 
without  ever  having  handled  wax  or  clay,  made,  on  his  first 
attempt,  the  statue  of  one  of  his  friends,  a  sculptor.  It  was 
the  sculptor  who  served  as  a  model  and  disposed  the  action  ; 
so  that  he  saw  both  his  master-piece  and  his  reputation  created 
at  the  same  time.  That  sculptor  had  modelled  before  draw- 
ing. Whoever  imitates  him  will  be  like  the  painter  who 
3* 


58  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

draws  before  coloring ;  lie  will  never  learn  to  draw  ;  and  a 
sculptor  witkout  drawing  is  only  a  practitioner.  He  must 
measure  his  lengths  and  breadths  by  the  dividers :  always  a 
captive  in  his  narrow  genius. 

However  matter-of-fact  the  clay  model  may  be,  it  has  its 
poetry.  Even  here  we  must  know,  and  know  well,  in  order 
to  create,  to  compose.  What  genius  could  endure  the  pre- 
occupation of  looking  up  the  steps,  of  studying  the  material 
part  of  art  ?  Can  you  imagine  to  yourself  Michael  Angelo 
and  Benvenuto  employed  in  measuring  off  with  the  com- 
passes the  length  of  a  leg  or  the  breadth  between  the  eyes? 
Phidias,  who  has  made  all  his  heads  very  small,  Jean  Gou- 
jon,  who  has  made  all  his  legs  very  long,  they  thought  indeed 
of  taking  measurements  !  They  were  in  quest  of  elegance, 
and  they  found  it. 

In  sculpture,  it  must  be  remarked  that  marble  and  plaster 
make  the  objects  appear  larger;  bronze,  on  the  contrary, 
smaller.  Material  color  being  wanting  to  the  sculptor,  how 
can  he  supply  the  deficiency?  He  has  only  one  way:  color 
without  color,  or  luminous  color,  just  as  you  choose  to  call 
it.  Thus  he  colors  a  statue,  a  group,  a  bas-relief,  by  the 
skilful,  original  manner  with  which  he  makes  it  receive  its 
light  and  project  its  shadows.  Luminous  masses,  broad 
shadows,  black  holes,  arranged  with  the  knowledge  of  the 
colorist,  and  kept  in  balance  with  the  eye  of  the  draughts- 
man, give  to  a  work  that  taking  appearance  which  attracts 
admiration  and  wins  approbation. 

Eliza  will  have  this  skill  in  modelling  in  clay,  when  she 
has  acquired  it  by  drawing  with  the  pencil,  by  coloring  in 


COLOE   IN    SCULPTURE.  59 

water-colors.  She  will  not  fall  into  that  sculpture  without 
art  which  gives  no  pleasure  to  him  who  sees  it,  earns  no 
honor  for  him  who  makes  it,  which  is  as  tedious  as  plaster- 
casting  and  less  exact.  In  sculpture,  as  in  painting,  I  repeat, 
it  is  the  eye  that  speaks  to  the  eye,  feeling  to  feeling,  not  sci- 
ence speaking  to  science.  We  live  in  entire  ignorance  of  our 
muscles,  and  yet  there  are  artists  who  devote  themselves  to 
showing  that  they  know  them  all.  I  call  that  the  sculpture, 
the  painting  of  a  doctor.  There  are  critics  also,  it  is  true,  who 
give  especial  attention  to  these  amiable  qualities,  and  who  re- 
joice at  being  able  to  say,  in  front  of  a  picture:  "  There's  a 
man  that  can't  live;  his  mastoid  apophysis  can't  exercise  its 
functions."  This  rage  for  stripping  off  the  flesh  to  see 
whether  the  skeleton  is  really  there,  is  as  absurd  in  an  artist 
as  it  would  be  in  a  lover  who  treated  his  betrothed  after  this 
fashion.  Beautiful  paintings,  beautiful  statuary,  are  not,  any 
more  than  beautiful  girls,  made  to  be  dissected.  Let  us 
know  how  to  please,  that  is  our  law  and  our  aim.  The  whole 
of  art  is  there.  M.  I).  C. 


60        •  cave's  manual  of  coloe.  . 

TWELFTH   LETTER. 

LESSON— COLORED  STUFFS. 

The  harmony  of  flowers  has  taught  me  the  principle  of 
the  harmony  of  opposites. 

As  I  have  already  said,  I  make  use  of  blue  in  preparing 
red.  It  is  with  indigo  that  I  model  the  drapery,  if  I  wish  to 
make  a  scarlet  woolen  stuff.  I  then  put  on  a  general  tone  of 
lake,  over  which  I  brush  some  vermilion.  The  vermilion  is 
brushed  on  by  taking  it  very  dry  with  the  end  of  the  brush, 
in  such  a  way  as  not  to  put  it  all  over  the  paper.  There  is 
no  other  way  of  imitating  well  the  grain  of  the  wool. 

I  go  over  the  vigorous  places  with  burnt  sienna,  and 
sometimes  with  bitumen. 

For  silk  stuffs  I  do  not  use  the  lake  tone,  but  I  immedi- 
ately apply,  all  over,  a  general  scarlet  tone,  unless  the  lights 
are  white,  as  in  satin.  Now  I  have  told  you,  above,  how 
they  are  reserved. 

Sometimes  the  lights  are  of  a  gilded  white.  They  are  then 
gilded,  by  a  general  tone,  before  putting  on  that  of  the  stuff. 

Blue  stuffs,  on  the  contrary,  are  modelled  with  red  tones, 
burnt  sienna,  or  lake. 

Pale  rose,  with  very  bright  gray -blue. 

Pale  blue,  with  bright  red  tones. 

I  have  already  remarked  to  you  that  nearly  all  the  flowers 
have  green  leaves  and  a  little  yellow,  and  that  yellow  and 
green  harmonize  with  all  the  other  colors.    It  follows  that 


COLORED    STUFFS.  61 

the  shadows  of  green  and  yellow  may  be  modelled  with  all 
the  other  tones,  and  that  we  may  obtain  an  astonishing  va- 
riety of  results,  for  all  the  greens  and  all  the  yellows  are  not 
prepared  in  the  same  way. 

Let  us  pass  to  the  neutral  tints,  which  are  always  derived 
from  the  primitive  ones. 

Gray,  which  is  derived  from  blue,  is  prepared  with  sienna. 
Hence  gray  and  rose  go  well  together. 

Coffee-color,  crude  color,  {Scrue),  which  are  derived  from 
the  reds,  are  prepared  with  the  blues. 

In  every  case,  if  the  light  is  of  a  warm  tone,  the  shadow 
has  a  cold  tone  ;  if  the  light  has  a  cold  tone,  the  shadow  has 
a  warm  tone.  This  principle  applies  to  everything  that  has 
a  color,  to  woods,  metals,  plants,  etc. 

Your  daughters  will  not  bore  themselves  by  making 
studies  of  all  the  colors  with  pieces  of  stuffs.  On  the  con- 
trary, thanks  to  the  facility  which  water-colors  give  in  pass- 
ing the  tone  of  the  light  over  the  tone  of  the  shade,  they  will 
discover  tones  of  such  fine  quality  and  such  great  truth  that 
they  will  be  astonished.  Water-colors  make  the  colorist,  I 
have  said.  Why  should  not  your  daughters  become  such,  after 
experiments,  ofttimes  so  fortunate,  made  in  studying  them  ? 

They  will  also  have  to  look  for  the  tone  of  the  light  with 
great  care.  Let  them  make  their  experiments  on  the  guard- 
paper.  Sometimes  several  tones  must  be  mixed  to  make  a 
single  one. 

I  shall  not  tell  you  that  violet  is  made  with  blue  and  pink, 
and  green  with  blue  and  yellow.  Children,  in  coloring  en- 
gravings, learn  for  themselves  all  those  mixtures  of  primitive 


62  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

tones  that  give  the  composite  tones.  In  a  word,  they  know 
how  to  find  the  tone  of  the  light.  What  I  have  been  teach- 
ing you  is  the  science  of  shadows,  and  the  harmony  of  the 
lights  among  themselves.  Well,  the  harmony  of  the  lights  is 
derived  from  the  harmony  of  the  shadows ;  you  see  this  at 
every  step. 

You  will  doubtless  ask  me  how  I  will  make  violet,  which 
is  composed  of  a  warm  tone  and  a  cold  tone.  I  am  guided 
by  the  result :  as  it  is  cold,  my  preparation  is  a  warm  tone. 
The  same  with  green,  and  many  other  colors. 

For  striped  or  flowered  stuffs  the  drapery  should  first  re- 
ceive the  color  of  the  ground ;  the  stripes  or  flowers  are  laid 
on  afterwards.  The  stripes  well  drawn,  well  deflned,  turn 
the  folds  :  so  they  must  not  be  painted  in  haste  and  without 
observing  the  foreshortening. 

When  we  know  how  to  paint  stuffs  with  the  preparation 
that  I  have  indicated,  we  know,  my  dear  Julia,  how  to  pre- 
pare everything  that  has  a  color ;  we  can  overcome  a  very 
great  difficulty  in  the  execution  of  the  shadows  when  several 
objects  of  the  same  color  are  side  by  side.  For  instance,  let 
us  take  the  yellows :  a  yellow  inlaid  floor,  a  wicker  chair,  a 
yellow  dress,  a  gilt  frame.  All  these  objects,  put  side  by  side, 
differ  in  their  light  and  their  shade.  Well,  in  modelling 
them,  we  lay  on  our  tone  lighter  or  darker,  according  to 
the  value  of  the  colors.  The  general  tone  of  the  light  which 
goes  over  the  whole,  not  being  of  the  same  yellow,  varies 
very  naturally  the  tone  of  the  shade.  Hence  it  results  that 
each  shadow  belongs  perfectly  to  its  own  light.  In  oil-paint- 
ings it  is  very  difficult  to  hit  upon  these  different  tones. 


COLORED    STUFFS.  63 

Nothing  is  more  essential,  my  dear  Julia,  than  to  make 
studies  of  all  these  objects,  one  after  the  other,  and  to  try 
thus  several  blue  tones,  and  several  red  tones. 

But  remember  that  yellow  and  green  give  greater  variety 
in  the  preparation  of  the  shadows ;  because  they  harmonize 
•with  all  the  colors,  Kature  puts  them  almost  everywhere. 
The  flowers  are  there  to  prove  it,  and  you  will  pardon  my 
reverting  to  it. 

It  is  the  flowers,  too,  that  will  give  you  a  color  that  blends 
with  another,  and  at  the  same  time  is  used  in  preparing  it. 
For  instance,  the  deep  violet  and  the  light  violet  of  the  pansy 
are  prepared  with  burnt  sienna ;  we  find  precisely  this  tone 
of  burnt  sienna  in  the  middle  of  the  flower.  The  combina- 
tions of  the  flowers  should  be  engraved  upon  the  memory, 
as  drawing  is.  We  should  make  studies,  essays,  in  all  the 
colors  and  all  the  shades,  so  as  to  repeat  them  afterwards 
from  memory.  It  is  a  real  pleasure,  in  modelling  the  flesh- 
tints,  to  study  all  the  scales  of  blue  and  gray,  and  then  all 
the  scales  of  light  that  come  over  them,  as  well  as  the  tones 
of  shadow  and  reflection. 

I  hope,  my  dear  Julia,  that,  without  hurrying  yourself, 
you  will  give  yourself  up  to  all  these  exercises.  Your  imagi- 
nation need  not  wait  for  color  in  order  to  compose.  Make,  in 
the  meanwhile,  pictures  in  charcoal,  or  else  wash  them  wdth 
ivory-black,  and  then,  afterwards,  you  will  reproduce  them  in 
water-colors.  Give  yourself  up  exclusively  to  color  withoiit 
color,  until  you  are  perfectly  mistress  of  your  color  and  your 
brush.  Your  flrst  water-color  will  be  a  master-stroke,  I  as- 
sure you  of  it,  as  I  do  of  my  friendship.  M.  ^.  C. 


64  cave's  makual  of  color. 


THIRTEENTH  LETTER. 

REMAEKS  — THE  TOUCH  — MOVEMENT  AND  FORM. 

You  pity  me,  my  dear  Julia,  thinking  of  the  patience  it 
must  have  cost  me  to  write  the  preceding  letters,  and  you 
fear  that  I  may  not  have  the  courage  to  bring  my  enterprise 
to  its  close.  You  doubtless  say  to  yourself,  "  When  I  have 
to  put  a  figure  in  shadow,  one  kind  of  lessons  ;  other  lessons 
for  the  hair,  others  still  for  the  drapery,  etc."  Cheer  up. 
"Water-colors  work  miracles.  They  know  how  to  transfer  an 
entire  figure  into  shadow,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  in  a 
way  that  astonishes  even  those  who  learn  it ;  a  great  advan- 
tage that  they  have  over  oils.  So,  when  we  know  how  to 
paint  in  water-colors,  we  can  paint  in  oils ;  whereas,  when 
we  know  how  to  paint  in  oils,  we  cannot  paint  in  water- 
colors. 

As  for  the  profession  in  one  or  the  other  kind  of  painting, 
I  do  not  think  it  anything  great.  Kot  to  have  any  profession, 
is  itself  something  original.  Without  the  profession,  we  ac- 
quire a  naive  touch  that  is  peculiar  to  ourselves  and  that  is 
not  spoiled  by  a  certain  amount  of  awkwardness,  when  ac- 
companied by  feeling.  I  compare  it  to  the  awkwardness  of 
children,  that  is  so  charming.  I  do  not  condemn  clever  ma- 
nipulations, but  I  wish  it  to  come  from  the  skill  that  is  pe- 
culiar to  yourself.     In  a  word,  I  wish  your  painting  to  be 


THE   TOUCH.  Q5 

yourself.    You  paint  skilfully,  just  as  you  eat  skilfully.    Eu- 
bens  could  not  do  anything  awkwardly. 

If  I  insist  upon  my  pupils  painting  their  water-colors 
from  oil-paintings,  and  oil-paintings  from  water-colors,  that 
is  to  prevent  then'  copying  the  touch,  be  it  skilful  or  not,  of 
this  or  that  master,  which  is  often  only  special  dexterity  and 
sagacity.  Besides,  it  is  an  agreeable  condition;  and  if  it 
does  not  afford  any  glory,  it  is  lucrative. 

But  if  you  wish  to  succeed  in  composing,  in  creating  for 
yourself,  knowledge  must  be  acquired.  Touch,  technical 
skill,  style,  are  not  knowledge.  Eubens  had  knowledge. 
You  who  have  had,  like  myself,  the  good  fortune  to  see  all 
his  chefs-dceuvre  at  Antwerp,  do  you  think  that  he  did  not 
have  it  at  the  end  of  his  brush  when  executing  those  sublime 
compositions  that  seem  to  be  the  work  of  a  day,  so  complete 
and  pervading  is  the  harmony,  so  aptly  has  the  action  been 
caught  in  the  act  ? 

Gros,  his  admirer,  said  one  day  to  one  of  his  pupils  : 
"  You  have  copied  the  model,  but  you  have  not  copied 
nature."  That  pupil,  we  may  be  sure,  had  not  the  knowl- 
edge of  form,  without  which  we  cannot  express  the  move- 
ment and  action  that  are  given  by  nature,  and  which  the 
model  never  gives. 

Nature  is  man  at  liberty,  moving  without  effort  or  manner- 
ism. The  model  is  only  a  living  manikin  which  you  set  in 
motioli  and  which  always  has,  consequently,  something  false 
and  borrowed. 

Every  man  is  constructed  for  the  movement  that  he  can 
take,  or  rather  every  man  moves  according  to  his  physical 


66  gate's   MAIfUAL   OF   COLOK. 

organization.  Wliat  one  can  do,  another  cannot ;  wliat  is 
graceful  in  one  is  ungraceful  in  another.  Here  is  a  woman 
with  a  long  neck,  short  waist,  and  long  legs ;  certainly  she 
has  not  the  same  movements  as  one  with  a  short  neck,  long 
waist,  and  short  legs.  It  follows  that  one  is  supple,  the  other 
stiff.  Here,  a  distingue  look,  elegance,  style ;  there,  an  ordi- 
nary look,  a  vulgar  nature.  All  these  qualities,  all  these 
defects  are  due  to  the  form.  This  is  so  true  that  certain  fine 
ladies  look  like  servants,  and  servants  like  fine  ladies. 

Movement  follows  form,  even  in  children.  Those  who 
have  the  same  tournure  as  their  parents,  have  the  same  man- 
ners. I  mean  children  who  have  been  orphans  from  their 
birth,  and  who,  at  fifteen  or  at  thirty,  have  the  same  gestures 
that  their  parents  had  at  those  ages. 

Now  you  will  understand  perfectly  the  words  of  Gros : 
"  You  have  copied  the  model,  but  you  have  not  copied 
nature." 

Nature  is  everybody ;  the  model  is  but  one ;  it  is  not  even 
one,  for  it  obeys  a  will  from  without,  it  is  not  itself.  Nature 
is  the  composition  which  starts  from  the  memory  of  the 
artist,  and  which  his  genius  animates  by  adapting  the  move- 
ment to  the  form.  Nature  it  is  that  our  old  masters  pos- 
sessed so  well.  People  have  said  that  they  had  finer  models 
than  we :  it  may  be  so  ;  but  it  is  silly  to  think  that  it  is  be- 
cause they  had  fine  models  that  they  were  great  painters. 
They  were  great  painters  because  they  had  the  knowledge 
of  nature.  That  is  the  source  of  the  style  that  we  admire  in 
their  works. 

Although  Kubens  has,  in  a  remarkable  manner,  adapted 


MOVEMENT   AND   FOEM.  67 

movement  to  form,  nevertheless  there  are  great  artists  who 
say,  in  good  faith,  that  Rubens  is  no  painter  by  style.  This 
comes  from  their  having  derived  their  idea  of  style  from 
certain  master-pieces,  instead  of  studying  it  in  nature. 

It  is  there  alone  that  we  find  it.  Phidias  has  taken  it 
from  Greek  nature ;  Raphael,  Titian,  Michael  Angelo,  from 
Roman  nature  ;  Paul  Veronese,  from  Venitian  nature ;  Pous- 
sin,  Lesueur,  Jean  Goujon,  from  French  nature  ;  and,  I  make 
bold  to  say  it,  Rubens  from  Flemish  nature.  Is  there  any- 
thing truer,  more  poetic,  holier  in  its  grief,  than  the  Virgin 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  in  the  picture  of  the  Cruci- 
fixion, by  this  master  ?  Every  mother  weeps  before  this  ma- 
ternal sorrow ;  just  as  she  naturally  and  involuntarily 
stretchfes  out  her  arms  to  those  beautiful  infant  Christs,  pal- 
pitating so  with  life  and  fresh  beauty.  It  is  poetry,  people 
say,  not  style.    If  it  is  not  style,  how  could  it  be  poetry  ? 

Let  us  leave  these  discussions  to  the  men,  who  think 
themselves  obliged  to  judge  according  to  tradition,  under 
penalty  of  passing  for  ignoramuses.  We  women,  who  have 
a  right  to  be  ignorant,  let  us  judge  by  our  own  feeling,  an^ 
let  us  proclaim  the  good  wherever  we  find  it.  When  God 
has  not  willed  that  all  beautiful  natures  should  be  alike,  why 
should  people  wish  for  similarity  among  all  beautiful  pic- 
tures ?  Why  reduce  to  one  solitary  one  all  the  works  of 
creation,  so  numerous,  so  diversified  ?  Why  should  not  each 
poet  represent  all  of  beauty  that  there  is  in  every  country 
with  the  poetry  that  is  his  own  ?  And  then,  what  an  aberra- 
tion of  mind,  when  judging  of  works  and  classifying  paint- 
ers, to  presume  to  give  so  much  pre-eminence  to  form  over 


68 


color !  Form,  good  ;  but  after  that  ?  Do  you  think  that  art 
stops  there  ?  Interrogate  the  poets,  then.  When  they  have 
bestowed  upon  their  heroines  regular  and  pleasing  features, 
a  lissome  and  elegant  form,  they  hasten  to  give  them  life,  b}' 
borrowing  from  the  rich  palette  of  nature  those  colors  which 
you  despise.  Behold  them,  animate  with  their  rosy,  lips, 
their  ivory  neck,  their  azure  eyes,  their  golden  or  their  raven 
hair,  their  rose  and  lily  complexion,  and  then  say  that  form 
is  everything. 

The  utmost  that  I  can  conceive  is  the  discussion  of  the 
question,  whether  the  drawing  aids  the  color  more,  or  the 
color  the  drawing ;  but  I  detest  this  senseless  war  of  words 
against  facts.  Let  us  enter  boldly  into  the  application  of 
drawing  and  of  color.  We  are  creating  a  school  of  women. 
The  Greeks  and  the  Romans  have  left  no  traditions  to  which 
we  are  obliged  to  submit,  and  the  doctors  who  lay  down 
rules  with  such  comic  pedantry  have  no  authority  over  us. 
We  can  look  at  the  masters  of  art  with  our  own  eyes,  com- 
prehend them  with  our  own  intelligence,  feel  them  with  our 
pwn  soul,  and  then,  enlightened  and  inspired  by  them,  go  on 
in  the  way  opened  before  us.  We  shall  not  do  any 
better  than  our  rivals,  perhaps,  but  we  shall  do  something 
different,  especially  if  we  remain  women.  We  are  nearer  to 
nature  than  they  are :  that  is  one  advantage  already. 

Let  us  constantly  seek  of  her  our  inspirations,  as  the 
first  masters  have  done.  Let  us  take  our  harmonies  from 
among  the  flowers,  the  butterflies,  the  birds;  let  us  select 
our  eflects  of  light  from  among  those  which  God  has  pro- 
fusely scattered  over  the  earth,  and  let  us  say,  at  every  step ; 


MOVEMENT   AND   FOEM.  69 

"Every  human  creation  has  its  source  in  a  creation  of 
God's."  Would  you  believe  it,  that  all  the  Grecian,  Gothic, 
and  Moorish  designs,  are  to  be  found  in  snow-crystals  under 
the  magnifying-glass  ?  We  shall  find  there  wonders  for 
stuffs,  vases,  clocks,  etc.  Besides,  in  arranging  pretty 
toilettes,  we  shall  succeed  in  finding  harmonious  composi- 
tions for  our  pictures. 

Our  habit  of  wearing  colors  will  render  us  more  skilful 
in  happily  blending  them.  The  old  masters  are  perhaps  in- 
debted, in  a  measure,  for  their  talent  as  colorists,  to  the  colors 
they  were  in  the  habit  of  wearing.  Now-a-days  the  men 
only  change  color  in  their  opinions.  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  that  will  make  them  colorists.  M.  !&.  0. 


'70  caye's  manual  of  coloe. 


rOURTEENTH   LETTER. 

LESSON  — PROJECTED  SHADOWS  — DISTANT  HUES  — SKIES  ^ 
ANIMALS. 

In  order  to  proceed  regularly,  my  dear  Julia,  I  am  going 
to  speak  to  you  about  projected  shadows  and  distant  hues. 
We  must  commence  by  studying  a  figure  in  its  light,  with 
its  background  and  its  projected  shadow,  before  passing  to 
figures  in  shadow. 

Projected  shadows  should  be  in  harmony  with  the  object 
on  which  they  fall.  On  a  yellow  inlaid  floor  they  are  pre- 
pared with  yellow ;  on  the  grass,  like  green ;  and  so  on. 
You  know  how  important  it  is  that  the  shadow  should 
belong  to  the  ground,  and  not  to  the  figure.  Otherwise,  the 
figure  would  be  glued  to  the  ground.  Get  your  daughters  to 
notice,  when  a  person  is  walking,  that  the  color  of  his 
shadow  varies  with  that  of  the  ground  on  which  he  walks. 

Sometimes  the  projected  shadow  is  reflected  by  the  object 
which  gives  the  light.  Then  the  reflection  must  be  sought 
for  and  applied  accurately,  either  by  picking  out,  or  by  pass- 
ing a  bright  tone  over  a  bold  one. 

When  the  background  of  a  picture  is  so  far  off  that  we 
no  longer  distinguish  the  color,  for  instance,  when  an  open 
door  resembles  the  opening  of  a  cellar,  this  dark  tone  is 
made  with  cobalt  blue  and  red  brown  or  with  indigo  and 
vermilion.     These  same  tones  are  used  for  the  dark  back- 


DISTANT   HUES.  '71 

grounds  of  the  landscape,  because  they  are  vigorous  without 
being  black,  and  are  consequently  airy,  and  stand  back  from 
the  foreground. 

But  remind  your  daughters  that  in  painting,  as  in  draw- 
ing, they  must  hold  a  piece  of  black  velvet  between  them- 
selves and  the  nature  that  they  seek  to  represent.  They 
will  be  more  and  more  convinced  that  everything  is  blonde, 
even  the  boldest  tree- trunks  that  rise  against  the  sky.  Even 
a  black  hat,  as  soon  as  it  is  in  the  shade,  is  bold ;  but  it  is  no 
longer  black.  Black  is  only  employed  in  the  light  of  black. 
Our  pupils  will  observe  this  in  the  pictures  of  great  colorists. 

You  know  that  the  very  distant  mountains  and  trees  in 
the  landscape  are  sometimes  very  blue;  they  are  painted 
with  cobalt  blue  or  ultramarine.  If  they  are  greenish  blue, 
we  add  a  little  Naples  yellow ;  if  they  are  greenish  yellow,  a 
little  yellow  ochre  or  Italian  earth.  For  the  distant  tones, 
cobalt  green  may  also  be  mixed  with  red  brown,  with  good 
success.  Transparent  colors  do  not  suit  the  background  of  a 
landscape.  "When  the  foliage  of  a  tree  in  the  foreground 
stands  out  boldly  against  the  sky,  the  contour  is  never  crude 
green,  even  in  the  light.  So  cobalt  blue,  yellow  ochre,  aSTa- 
ples  yellow,  and  Italian  earth  are  preferable  to  brilliant  yel- 
lows and  greens,  which  must  be  reserved  for  the  foreground 
of  the  tree. 

With  regard  to  those  bold  blue  tones  which  we  observe 
in  forests  or  on  the  horizon  of  the  sea,  they  are  prepared 
with  cobalt  blue  or  indigo,  adding,  if  necessary,  red  brown  or 
vermilion.  Cobalt  blue  and  red  brown  are  necessary  for 
ships  and  their  rigging,  that  seem  to  us,  at  times,  so  black. 


11 


Indigo  yields  a  green  tliat  gives  greater  distance  tlian 
mineral  blue,  when  it  is  used  with  opaque  yellows. 

Impress  upon  your  daughters  that  the  tones  I  have  indi- 
cated for  the  background  should  adhere  but  slightly  to  the 
paper ;  this  is  indispensable.  The  reason  is :  if  you  have  a 
mountain  in  the  background,  it  is  modelled,  that  is  to  say,  it 
has  lights  and  shadows.  Now,  in  backgrounds,  the  lights 
have  more  distance  by  erasing  than  by  preserving  them. 

The  same  is  true  for  all  the  more  distant  tones. 

Make,  then,  on  your  guard -paper,  a  study  of  the  colors 
that  are  readily  erased.  Skill,  acquired  experience,  will  bring 
out  a  light  such  as  you  wish.  It  will  then  be  of  service  to 
repeat  this  exercise  with  united  tones,  by  using  the  means  I 
have  already  explained  for  draperies. 

One  more  thing  worth  knowing :  to  know  how  to  take  a 
tone  half  out.  To  do  this,  stretch  a  corner  of  your  handker- 
chief over  your  finger,  moisten  it  slightly  with  the  tongue, 
and  tap  it  against  the  paper. 

When  our  pupils  have  made  a  detailed  study  of  all  these 
processes,  Ihey  will  put  them  in  practice  in  copying  the  pic- 
ture of  some  colorist. 

I  found  them  while  copying  in  water-colors,  in  the  Am- 
sterdam museum,  Rembrandt's  picture,  called  the  Night 
Watch,  a  composition  twenty  feet  large,  which  I  reduced,  of 
course. 

Rembrandt  makes  the  chiaro-oscuro  intelligible ;  Rubens, 
the  harmony  of  colors.  A  trip  in  Belgium  and  Holland  is  a 
grand  lesson  in  coloring,  especially  as  one  can  copy  there 
these  two  masters. 


SKIES.  73 

We  must,  then,  my  dear  Julia,  seek  to  find  the  means  of 
copjdug  in  water-colors  one  or  two  grand  pictures  by  master 
colorists.  But  we  will  speak  of  that  hereafter,  when  the 
time  for  it  has  come. 

At  present  let  us  pass  over  to  skies :  a  weighty  matter. 
The  most  skilful  water-colorists  do  them  only  in  fear  and 
trembling.  We  must,  with  the  same  stroke  of  the  brush,  hit 
both  the  form  and  the  color.  A  sky  retouched  is  a  sky 
spoiled.  The  white  of  the  paper  being  reserved  for  the 
clouds,  the  main  point  is  to  hit  accurately  the  design  of  the 
contour  while  making  the  ground  of  the  sky,  and  the  ground 
should  be  free  from  spots.  You  see  that  the  entire  difficulty 
lies  in  the  execution. 

Mary  and  Eliza  will  know  how  to  draw  skies  from  memory 
when  they  begin  to  wash  :  you  feel  this  in  all  its  importance ; 
but  you  will  notice  what  I  have  noticed  in  my  pupils,  that 
they  must,  in  washing  the  skies,  acquire  the  habit  of  drawing 
in  an  inverse  sense.  Thus,  in  their  charcoal  drawings,  your 
daughters  bring  out  the  white  clouds  from  the  black  ground 
by  means  of  bread-crumb  :  this  is  the  ordinary  way  of  draw- 
ing the  object  in  the  ground;  whereas,  for  skies,  the  ground 
is  drawn  in  the  cloud  by  washing  with  water-colors.  An- 
other habit  that  the  eye  has  to  learn. 

With  regard  to  the  colors,  they  are  made  such  as  we  see 
them.  Cobalt  blue  and  ultramarine "  are  preferable ;  but  we 
can  also  use  other  blues  without  detriment,  especially  in 
skies  of  a  greenish  blue.  Ked,  brown,  or  vermilion,  mixed 
with  ivory-black  or  indigo,  can  also  be  used  for  the  vanish- 
ing tones  of  skies. 


74  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

Let  us  re-descend  to  the  eartli,  to  study  its  beasts.  Animals 
generally  have  a  white,  black,  yellow,  or  gray  dress.  I  have 
mentioned  above  how  these  four  tones  are  prepared. 

One  great  advantage  of  water-color  is  the  ability  to 
model  an  entire  animal  with  a  single  tone.  Thus  we  catch 
right  off  the  light  and  the  shade.  The  light  is  very  close  on 
animals  with  short  hair,  more  open  on  animals  with  long 
hair.  Order  your  daughters  to  model  without  troubling 
themselves  about  the  details  of  the  hair.  When  they  are  fin- 
ishing, they  can  take  them  out,  or  gouacheHhem.  in  the  neces- 
sary places. 

In  saying  the  necessary  places,  I  mean  the  striking  places. 
We  must  always  bear  in  mind  that  the  eye  of  the  spectator 
catches  first  the  ensemble,  and  that  it  only  goes  into  the  in- 
spection of  the  details  when  it  is  satisfied  with  the  general 
appearance.  That  is,  of  itself,  a  great  eulogium  on  an  artist, 
to  stand  before  his  picture  and  say :  "  What  a  pity  it  is  not 
finished."  Do  not  people  speak  thus  in  the  presence  of  a  beau- 
tiful unfinished  construction  ?  They  feel  that  the  work  has 
been  well  conceived,  and  regret  that  the  author  has  not  been 
able  to  finish  it.  The  imagination  of  the  spectator  puts  itself 
in  the  position  of  the  artist,  so  as  to  finish  the  picture  or  the 
construction,  and  often  it  is  more  taken  by  it  than  by  a  fin- 
ished work.  This  is  why  large  sums  have  been  lavished  on 
mere  sketches. 

But  when  a  picture  is  incorrectly  finished,  that  is  to  say, 
when  all  the  details  are  there  without  their  masses,  it  is  no 
more  regarded  than  is  a  heap  of  withered  flowers.  There  is 
everything  in  it ;  there  is  nothing  in  it.  M.  fi.  C. 

*  To  put  in  a  body  color. 


EEMARKS.  76 


FIFTEENTH  LETTER. 

EEMAEKS— HOW  TO  PLACE  A  FIGUEE  IN  THE  SHADOW— HAIR 
AND  WIG— LOVE  AND  FEIENDSHIP. 

"  Your  daughters'  work  does  not  resemble  faded  flowers. 
Already  you  find  that  it  has  form  and  style.  An  English  en- 
graver has  told  you  that  he  could  make  charming  engravings 
from  some  of  their  designs."  In  sending  me  this,  my  dear 
Julia,  you  bestow  upon  me  an  eulogium  of  which  I  have  the 
right  to  be  as  proud  as  your  daughters  are.  Under  my 
method  of  instruction,  the  first  essays  are  masterly  efforts. 
So  I  am  going  to  open  course  after  course  for  the  propagation 
of  this  simple  idea.  I  experience  so  much  pleasure  in 
seeing  my  pupils  do  what  I  should  not  do.  The  mother  who 
sees  her  son  develop  and  become  a  handsome  and  intelligent 
cavalier  is  not  happier.  She  gazes  upon  him  and  listens  to 
him  with  admiration.  Sueh  is  the  picture  of  you,  of  me,  in 
the  presence  of  your  daughters.  I  do  you  the  honor  of  not 
doubting  it. 

Water-colors  cannot  but  increase  your  pleasure.  They 
proceed,  too,  by  masses.  You  must  have  noticed  that  the 
drawings  and  water-colors  of  a  scholar  do  not  excel  in  this 
respect— very  naturally ;  one  must  be  very  skilful  in  order 
to  finish  the  details  without  altering  the  masses.  Hitherto 
pupils  have  always  begun  by  finishing  their  drawings  by 
hatching,  and  their  first  water-colors  by  stippling.     So  they 


'76  cave's  manual  of  color. 

say,  when  they  have  become  men :  ''  I  could  draw  when  I 
was  young :  I  made  magnificent  heads  ;  but  at  present  I 
could  not  draw  a  straight  line."  Such  ones  have  never 
learned  to  draw.  That  is  a  knowledge  which  is  never  for- 
gotten ;  on  the  contrary,  we  progress  without  working ;  be- 
cause, although  the  hand  is  at  rest  the  mind  is  not.  But 
when  we  have  copied  and  shaded  a  great  lumbering  head  by 
hatching,  as  the  practice  is  still  kept  up  to-day  in  many  stu- 
dios, we  may  be  sure  that  we  do  not  know  any  more  than  we 
did  at  first. 

The  science  of  drawing  and  painting  is  so  neglected  or 
rather  so  badly  understood  in  our  days,  that  there  are  artists 
who  have  worked  for  ten  years  without  knowing  how  to  put 
a  figure  in  the  shadow  in  the  background  of  a  picture.  Out- 
side of  their  foreground  we  perceive  something  misty,  fantas- 
tical ;  but  living  beings,  never.  If  they  had  commenced  with 
water-colors,  like  your  daughters,  they  would  boldly  plant  a 
drawn,  accentuated,  colored  figure  in  the  shadow  or  in  the 
half-tint,  as  Paul  Veronese  has  done,  and  this  figure  would  be 
alive,  in  its  right  place,  not  too  far  forward  nor  too  far  back. 

Do  you  remember  that  at  boarding-school  we  were  never 
satisfied  with  the  pictures  that  they  gave  us  to  copy,  and 
were  always  saying :  "  How  shall  we  work  from  nature  ?  " 
If  at  this  period  I  had  discovered  tracing,  that  infallible 
teacher  which  I  give  to  my  pupils,  what  master-pieces  we 
should  have  executed  in  the  very  teeth  of  our  masters,  and 
in  spite  of  them !    Yes,  master-pieces,  I  venture  to  say. 

And  if  I  had  had  this  simple  process  that  I  am  finally 
going  to  reveal  to  you,  which  immediately  transfers  any  fig- 


HOW    TO    PLACE    A   riGUEE    IN   SHADOW.  77 

lire  or  object  wliatever  to  the  shadow  or  half-tint,  we  should 
have  made  a  resolution. 

The  process,  here  it  is  : 

Begin  by  drawing  the  whole  composition.  Then  pass  a 
general  gray  tone  over  everj^thing  that  you  wish  to  put  in  the 
shadow  or  the  half-tint.  This  tone  will  be  more  or  less  dark, 
according  as  the  shadow  or  the  half-tint  that  you  wish  to  ob- 
tain is  more  or  less  vigorous.  Then  paint  on  the  gray  paper 
as  though  it  were  white,  and  the  tones  which  would  other- 
wise be  tones  of  light  become  tones  of  shadow  or  half-tint. 
Do  you  understand  me  ?  On  gray  paper  you  make  blondes, 
brunettes,  negroes,  with  the  colors  that  you  would  use  on 
white  paper,  and  you  find,  to  your  surprise,  those  tones  of 
shadow  and  half-tint  which  characterize  the  great  colorists. 
I  am  indebted  for  this  process  to  the  various  attempts  that  I 
made  in  copying  their  works  in  water-color. 

Try  to  reverse  the  process.  Pass  the  gray  tone  over  the 
color.  You  will  get  only  a  bungling  performance  and  muddy 
colors. 

To  find  the  tone  of  the  shadow  and  the  half-tint ; 

To  find  the  shadow  and  the  half-tint  in  the  shadow  itself; 

To  model  in  the  shadow  and  the  half-tint : 

These  are  the  three  great  difficulties  of  painting. 

My  simple  process  solves  them  all. 

If  you  isolate  from  the  other  figures  the  one  thus  executed 
in  the  shadow,  if  you  look  at  it  carefully  for  some  time,  you 
will  find  in  it  the  little  blue  tones  of  the  light  and  the  tones 
of  refiection  so  perfectly,  that  you  will  think  it  has  become 
luminous.    It  will  not  return  to  the  shadow  until  you  have 


Y8  CAvis'S   MANUAL    OF    COLOE. 

compared  it  with  tlie  figures  placed  in  the  light.  In  reced- 
ing, it  has  nothing  misty  or  fantastic.  It  preserves  its  life, 
just  as  in  nature ;  we  cannot  say  that  it  does  not  exist. 

A  painter  was  one  day  exhibiting  with  pride  to  a  rich 
London  amateur  a  head  of  light  hair  perfectly  executed. 
"  O,  yes,  it  is  hair,"  said  the  Englishman ;  "but  it's  a  wig." 
There  was  no  life  in  it. 

To  give  life  to  what  we  portray,  that,  my  dear  Julia,  is 
the  object  of  painting.  In  this  Rubens  excels  :  this  it  is  that 
has  given  him  the  name  of  master  of  masters.  Does  he 
owe  this  eminent  -quality  to  his  genius  alone  ?  Does  he  not 
also  owe  it  to  his  profound  knowledge  of  nature,  that  nature 
which  he  had  before  his  eyes  in  northern  countries,  where  we 
see  the  blood  circulating  under  the  cuticle :  where  the  life  is, 
so  to  speak,  laid  bare  ?  He  found  in  his  own  family,  in  the 
transparent-fleshed  young  girls  who  surrounded  him,  those 
types  for  all  ages,  so  often  reproduced  and  so  much  admired, 
the  Yenuses,  the  Helens,  the  Ledas,  the  Ceres,  the  Floras,  in 
short,  all  the  blonde  goddesses  of  heathendom,  even  to  the 
Virgin  of  the  Christians,  also  blonde,  with  the  blooming 
cheeks  and  the  red  lips  of  your  daughters.  And  his  genius 
has  made  them  live  again  on  the  canvas. 

Believe  me,  all  the  great  painters  have  wished  to  excel  in 
color.  Those  who  were  less  of  colorists  than  their  rivals  re- 
gretted it.  When  Titian  exhibited  his  Yenuses,  he  prevented 
Raphael  from  sleeping.  More  keenly  than  any  one  else  did 
Raphael  feel  the  admiration  that  they  must  inspire.  So  great, 
in  fact,  is  the  magic  power  of  the  brush  that  created  them, 
that  amateurs  have  remained  for  years  in  Florence,  solely  for 


LOYE    A]SD   FEIENDSHIP.  79 

the  pleasure  of  going  every  day  to  contemplate  them  and  to 
admh-e  the  most  marvellous  harmony  of  beautiful  forms  and 
beautiful  colors.  I  have  never  seen  anything  more  beautiful. 
It  is  the  apogee  of  art. 

You  must  laugh  at  me,  my  dear  Julia,  noticing  that  when- 
ever I  speak  of  a  master-piece  I  always  say:  *'  I  have  never 
seen  anything  more  beautiful."  This  exclamation  has  es- 
caped from  me,  by  turns,  in  the  presence  of  a  Eubens,  a  Paul 
Veronese,  a  Raphael,  a  Poussin.  To-day,  it  is  Titian  to  whom 
I  render  this  homage.  It  seems  that  in  the  presence  of  beau- 
tiful pictures  I  am  like  our  gentlemen  in  the  presence  of 
beautiful  women  :  the  last  is  always  in  the  right. 

However,  as  to  myself,  there  are  only  two  ways  of  liking 
chefs-^cewDre.  I  love  some  with  a  real  love,  I  like  others  in 
the  way  of  friendship. 

Those  that  I  love,  I  loved  them  without  after- thought,  at 
first  sight,  struck  by  that  ravishing  splendor  which  is  irresisti- 
ble. As  to  the  others,  those  that  have  my  friendship,  it  was 
by  seeing  them  frequently,  by  studying  them,  that  I  appre- 
ciated them  and  became  attached  to  them.  Amateurs  of 
painting  will  understand  me.  I  do  not  doubt  but  that  they 
have,  unconsciously,  experienced  the  same  emotions  in  the 
presence  of  so  many  master-pieces,  the  constant  objects  of 
their  adoration. 

After  this  I  expect  to  see  your  daughters  analyzing  their 
feelings,  to  find  out  whether  they  love  or  like  a  picture. 
Their  observations  will  perhaps  amuse  you  as  much  as  the 
anxiety  of  Margaret,  who  is  afraid  she  loves  her  young  cousin 
because  she  always  sneezes  when  he  comes.  M.  fi.  C. 


80  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

SIXTEENTH  LETTER. 

LESSON-COPYING  A  PICTURE-COMPOSING  A  PICTURE. 

In  order  to  copy  a  picture  in  water-colors,  my  dear  Julia, 
you  must  proceed  with  method,  and  never  be  in  haste.  Take 
a  tracing  of  the  picture,  if  the  water-color  is  to  be  of  the 
same  size ;  and  if  you  wish  to  reduce  it,  trace  it  precisely  as 
though  drawing  it  from  nature.  That  must  be  your  first 
care.*  It  is  important  to  make  a  careful  study  of  the  draw- 
ing on  ordinary  paper,  first,  in  order  to  transfer  it  to  wash- 
paper  without  mistakes.  It  is  transferred  simply  by  tracing 
through  a  window-pane,  or  by  red  paper  put  between  the 
trace-copy  and  the  white  paper. 

Unless  a  bore  should  come  in,  you  will  have  to  stretch 
your  drawing  yourself  on  the  board. 

You  then  pass  a  general  tone  of  yellow  ochre  over  the 
whole  paper,  in  order  to  give  it  a  yellow-white  tone. 

While  studying  with  your  daughters  the  picture  that  they 
are  going  to  copy,  you  will  make  them  notice  all  the  parts 
that  are  in  the  half- tint,  figures,  furniture,  ground.  As  soon 
as  the  yellow  tint  is  perfectly  dry,  they  will  cover  with  a 
tone  of  ivory-black,  in  their  drawing,  all  that  is  in  the  half- 
tint  in  the  original.  Do  you  see  how  necessary  our  charcoal- 
drawing  is,  how  it  facilitates  what  I  now  ask  ? 

*  See  "  Cave  on  Drawing,"  eightli  letter. 


COPYING   A   PICTURE.  81 

One  matter  well  settled. 

The  paper  remains  intact  wherever  we  find  the  luminous 
parts  of  the  drawing  ;  all  the  rest  is  covered  with  a  gray  half- 
tint. 

•  They  will  begin  by  painting  those  persons  or  objects  of 
the  picture  that  have  the  most  light,  the  parts  which  fix  the 
attention,  and  then  continue  copying  until  .done,  always 
taking  up  the  lighter  points  before  the  bolder  ones,  in  order 
to  preserve  the  proper  value  of  the  efl'ects  of  the  light. 
"Where  there  are  some  parts  bolder  than  others,  they  are 
treated  with  a  second  gray  tint,  but,  in  every  case,  before  the 
color  is  put  on. 

Your  daughters  will  certainly  make  blunders  ;  they  will 
make  the  tones  too  light  or  too  dark  ;  but  that  is  a  matter  of 
practice.  Their  very  mistakes  will  teach  them.  I  can  only 
tell  them  in  the  words  of  the  gospel :  "  Seek  and  you  shall 
find,  if  you  follow  my  teachings." 

The  copies  should  be  repeated  from  memory,  after  the 
manner  of  a  sketch.  It  is  also  good  to  make  sketches  from 
the  pictures  of  the  great  colorists,  and  reproduce  them  from 
memory.  These  exercises  will  accustom  the  eye  to  find  the 
correct  tones  and  harmonize  them. 

From  copied  compositions  we  pass  to  compositions  from 
nature. 

Our  pupils  will  compose  from  memory,  in  order  to  give 
the  correct  movement  and  expression.  Quite  naturally  they 
will  adapt  the  movement  to  the  form,  because  the  recollec- 
tion of  nature  caught  in  the  act  will  come  to  the  end  of  their 
charcoal ;  for  it  is  with  charcoal  that  we  compose. 
4* 


3S 


5 


82 


The  composition  being  settled,  they  will  take  up  the 
model  in  order  to  study  the  details.  The  choice  of  models  is 
not  a  matter  of  indifference.  They  should  be  of  the  same 
kind  as  the  figures  we  have  drawn.  If  they  are  short  while 
the  figures  are  long,  thin,  and  the  figures  are  stout,  how  shall 
we  ever  arrive  at  the  ensemble,  at  truthfulness  ?  They  give 
the  detail  of  the  form. 

They  do  not  give  the  movement,  which,  if  taken  from 
them,  is  always  stiff  and  false.  The  painter  himself  must 
perform  the  action  of  his  picture,  or  he  will  give  only  a  pup- 
pet show.  If  he  cannot  compose  without  the  help  of  his 
models,  he  is  no  painter.  The  pupil  who  has  learned  to  draw 
from  memory  knows  more  about  it  than  he  does.  What 
characterizes  the  works  of  the  masters  is  their  power  in  the 
presence  of  nature.  We  see  that  they  are  her  masters.  They 
find  shapes,  attitudes,  that  one  woman  in  a  thousand  can 
offer.  With  them,  the  model  is  only  a  slave  wearing  drapery. 
What  can  we  expect  from  painters  who  demand  every- 
thing of  their  models,  both  the  composition  of  their  draw- 
ing and  the  movement  of  their  figures?  Nothing.  They 
tremble  at  the  sight  of  nature,  whom  they  have  never 
studied,  whom  they  know  not;  as  an  inexperienced  orator 
trembles  before  the  public,  because  he  does  not  possess  the 
faculty  of  remembering  language.  Both  of  them  hem  and 
haw. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  here  what  I  have  already  said 
about  composition  in  the  fifteenth  letter  on  Drawing. 

When  your  daughters  are  satisfied  with  the  ensemble  and 
the  details  of  their  drawing,  they  will  trace  off  their  compo- 


COMPOSING   A   PICTUKE.  .   83 

sition  on  wasli-paper,  stretcli  it,  and  pass  over  it  the  yellow 
ochre  tint. 

Then  they  will  return  to  their  drawing,  in  order  to  study 
out  the  effect  by  means  of  charcoal.  When  they  have  caught 
it,  they  will  pass  to  the  harmony  of  the  tones. 

To  find  this  harmony,  they  must  make  a  sketch. 

The  sketch  is  the  composition  reduced  to  the  tenth,  the 
twentieth  part  of  the  picture. 

Over  this  reduced  composition  your  daughters  will  pass 
the  effect  by  means  of  a  gray  tone  of  ivory-black.  They  will 
obtain  this  effect  from  the  drawing  that  they  made  in  char- 
coal. 

The  cMaro-oscuro  of  the  sketch  being  determined,  they 
will  make  their  selections  among  all  the  pretty  toilettes  of 
which  the  flowers  and  the  butterflies  offer  so  many  models, 
and  will  dress  their  composition  as  they  would  a  single 
person. 

They  will  notice  that  the  great  masters  have  always 
painted  a  white  stuff  between  the  skin  and  the  colored  stuffs. 

They  will  not  forget  that  there  are  tones  which  stand  out 
and  tones  which  stand  back  of  themselves.  Thus,  where 
they  wish  to  obtain  brilliant  lights,  they  know  that  yellow, 
orange,  red,  and  pink  are  the  colors  that  stand  out  most  with 
white.  They  know  that  very  bold  black  has  also  the  power 
to  take  possession  of  the  foreground.  Their  studies  in  the 
harmony  of  opposites  in  the  flowers  will  be  of  great  help  to 
them,  without  their  suspecting  it.  In  a  word,  they  will  dress 
their  composition  as  they  dress  themselves,  with  art  and  good 
taste. 


84  caye's  manual  op  color. 

Nearly  all  painters  are  in  the  liabit  of  making  their  sketch 
very  small,  in  order  to  take  in  the  ensemble  at  a  glance  ;  this 
is  an  excellent  rule,  and  I  have  always  been  astonished  that 
the  idea  of  making  pupils  begin  by  drawing  from  small 
models  has  not  occurred  to  all  the  professors,  as  it  has  to  our 
great  artist,  M.  Ingres.  In  fact,  by  practicing  at  first  with 
small  proportions,  we  acquire  the  knowledge  of  masses  be- 
fore that  of  details,  we  catch  more  quickly  the  fittings  and 
jointings,  that  is  to  say,  we  know  how  to  put  a  hand  on  an 
arm,  to  put  an  eye  in  its  place,  before  studying  the  hand  and 
the  eye  separately  in  all  their  details.  What  an  odd  idea,  to 
teach  a  pupil  how  to  draw  an  eye,  a  nose,  a  mouth,  detached 
from  the  head  !  Why  not  also  make  them  draw  the  nails  by 
themselves  ? 

Gifted  artists,  who  have  begun  by  drawing  from  memory, 
work  at  first  on  a  very  small  scale.  Hence  their  aptitude  in 
catching  the  ensemble  of  persons,  animals,  all  that  they  see. 
In  the  presence  of  nature,  as  soon  as  they  wish  to  make  a  de- 
tailed study  of  it  in  large  proportions,  they  are  able,  at  the 
first  stroke,  to  place  a  figure  in  the  desired  movement. 

Small  proportions  force  us  to  bring  out  only  what  is 
essential.  We  cannot,  in  a  little  bit  of  a  figure,  express  all 
that  we  see.  We  limit  ourselves,  therefore,  to  the  choice  of 
that  which  characterizes  the  form,  even  exaggerating  it  to 
make  ourselves  understood.  Look  at  the  little  cJiefs-dC (x,uvre 
engraved  on  antique  gems ;  as  soon  as  we  enlarge  them  by 
the  Rouillet  process,  they  acquire  a  most  extraordinary  bold- 
ness of  form  and  expression.  The  admirable  engravers 
whose  names  they  have  handed  down  to  us,  had  caught  all 


COMPOSING  A   PICTUEE.  85 

the  difficulties  of  the  reduction  ;  they  knew  how  to  tint  pre- 
cisely the  essential  poihts  ;  for  instance,  out  of  three  folds  to 
preserve  that  one  which  reveals  the  form,  to  take  that  wrin- 
kle which  characterizes  the  physiognomy,  etc.  "We  can  copy 
a  large  figure  stupidly ;  a  small  one,  never. 

So  we  find  in  the  croquis^  in  the  sketches  of  the  great  mas- 
ters, all  their  spirit  and  all  their  fire.  Their  pictures  always 
seem  colder.  We  see  that  by  enlarging  their  figures  they 
have  tamed  down  what  I  shall  call  the  expression  of  form. 

The  expression  of  form  is  given  only  by  memory ;  it  is 
feeling  expressed  by  movement,  gesture,  and  physiognomy. 

M.  t.  C. 


86  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 


SEVENTEENTH   LETTER. 

REMARKS— ON  THE   HARMONY  OF  COLORS  IN  COMPOSITION 
—THE  SKETCH. 

Your  daughters  having  already  produced  effects  so 
piquant  that  an  engraver  finds  them  worthy  of  his  tools,  I 
shall  not,  my  dear  Julia,  recommend  to  them  a  fresh  perusal 
of  my  letter  on  composition,  in  the  letters  on  Drawing. 
That  would  be  to  insult  them. 

They  have  now  reached  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  art 
of  painting;  and,  indeed,  had  they  not  carried  out  my  in- 
structions in  every  respect,  I  should  fear  that  they  might 
recoil  before  the  impossible.  Fortunately,  I  have  not  got  to 
that  extremity,  and  I  write  my  thirty-second  letter  in  confi- 
dent assurance. 

Thirty-two  letters  on  the  art  of  drawing  and  painting 
would  be  a  great  deal  to  read  in  a  day,  but  nothing  to  study 
in  two  or  three  years.  In  expounding  my  doctrines,  I  have 
been  concise;  for  the  pupil  that  is  bored  learns  nothing. 
But  in  sending  you  these  letters  at  pretty  long  intervals,  I 
have  probably  indicated  that  I  did  not  intend  to  be  read  at 
one  breath.  In  fact,  it  is  only  by  practice  that  you  will  un- 
derstand me  perfectly,  unless  you  are  already  an  artist. 

The  art  of  drawing  and  the  art  of  painting  require  that 
the  hand  should  be  the  accurate  expression  of  the  thought. 
We  must  then  acquire  an  execution,  an  address,  which  the 


HAEMONY    OF    COLORS    IN    COMPOSITION".  87 

art  of  writing  does  not  require;  physical  effort  must  be 
joined  to  intellectual,  we  must  become  skilful  not  only  with 
our  minds,  but  with  our  hands. 

M.  Eugene  Delacroix  has  said,  on  speaking  of  the  letters 
on  Braioing:  "  I  shall  not  go  to  law  with  writers  who,  with- 
out being  thoroughly  acquainted  with  painting,  or  even 
without  having  practiced  its  rudiments,  write  upon  the  art, 
and  give  complacent  advice  to  artists." 

Why  should  not  these  same  writers  also  give  to  physi- 
cians and  surgeons  complacent  advice  on  the  art  of  healing 
and  operating?  They  would  have  just  as  much  right.  For- 
tunately, the  witty  raillery  of  M.  Delacroix  is  not  applicable 
to  all.  We  have  read  some  articles  on  painting  which  will 
always  remain  master-pieces  of  acuteness  and  judgment. 
But,  nota  bene,  the  litterateurs  who  wrote  them  lived  with 
painters,  and  used  their  tools,  enough,  at  least,  to  know  the 
danger  of  handling  them  without  practice  and  study. 

Practice  and  experience,  study  and  observation,  that  is 
what  my  lessons  must  have  given  to  your  daughters,  and  that 
is  what  they  will  need  to-day  in  order  to  go  boldly  to  the 
attack  of  the  sketch. 

The  sketch  of  a  composition — is  the  picture. 

The  picture  should  excel  the  sketch  only  in  the  superiority 
of  the  details.  Into  the  sketch  the  painter  throws  his  spirit, 
his  soul,  and  his  heart.  Into  the  picture  he  puts  all  his 
knowledge,  his  patient  and  devoted  work,  that  is  to  say,  his 
firm  resolve  to  submit  to  his  sketch.  The  sketch  is  made 
con  amore ;  the  picture,  with  that  calmer  and  more  lasting 
sentiment  which  I  shall  call  friendship.    The  sketch  is  the 


88  gate's  manual  of  colok. 

work  of  a  day  or  an  hour ;  the  picture  is  the  work  of  a  year 
or  of  several  months.  Do  you  appreciate  all  the  force  of 
will  that  is  needed  to  execute  in  a  year  what  has  been  con- 
ceived in  a  day  ? 

So,  my  dear  Julia,  a  great  artist  has  said :  "  Years  are 
needed  before  succeeding  in  putting  into  one's  picture  all  that 
there  is  in  one's  sketch." 

Inspiration  is  fleeting.  To  sustain  ourselves  for  a  long 
while  at  the  pitch  of  inspiration  is  to  make  a  fire  by  the  cold 
process,  so  to  speak.  We  need  for  it  that  iron  courage  which 
men  claim  to  be  their  privilege,  and  which  is  only  met  with 
in  such  of  them  as  are  in  a  measure  women. 

In  saying  to  you,  my  dear  Julia,  that  the  sketch  was  the 
work  of  a  day  or  an  hour,  I  meant  its  execution  on  paper  or 
on  canvas,  as  a  thought.  But  we  must  reflect  upon  it  a  long 
while,  before  making  the  first  line.  There  are  some  sketches 
that  I  have  thought  over  whole  years :  and  how  many  will 
remain  mere  projects  !  I  let  all  my  ideas  germinate  and  ripen 
in  my  head,  and  it  is  only  when  I  see  them,  with  my  mind's 
eye,  complete  and  finished,  that  I  decide  upon  realizing  them 
on  paper.  And  then  they  drop  from  my  brush  as  ripe  fruit 
falls  from  the  tree. 

And  it  should  be  thus,  in  order  that  the  imagination  may 
be  otherwise  employed,  not  coming  every  moment  to  hinder 
the  execution  of  pictures  by  suggesting  now  this  variation, 
now  that.  Ever  since  my  debut  in  art,  I  have  succeeded  in 
securing  a  great  resemblance  between  my  sketch  and  my 
picture.  Artists,  admiring  my  sang-froid^  have  often  said  to 
me :  "  How  is  it  that  you  contrive  to  make  no  change  in  your 


HARMONY    OF    COLORS   IN   COMPOSITIOIT.  89 

first  idea  ?  "  I  compose,  in  pelto,  pendants  to  th.e  picture  tliat 
I  am  executing.  In  this  way  I  can  sit  before  it  calm  and 
cold. 

The  sketch  is  the  work  of  observation  in  drawing  and 
colors,  preserved  in  the  memory  for  the  use  of  the  imagina- 
tion. 

All  the  parts  of  a  picture  reflect  one  another.  Your 
daughters  have  noticed,  I  am  sure,  that  when  they  pass  from 
one  room  to  another,  their  complexion  changes  at  times ;  that 
they  are  prettier  in  certain  places ;  that  their  toilette  shows 
to  more  advantage  in  one  parlor  than  another.  The  whole 
science  of  color  lies  in  this  observation,  that  persons  reflect 
their  surroundings.  Hence,  the  harmony  which  prevails  be- 
tween them.  This  is  what  I  called  upon  you  to  admire  in 
Watteau,  when  I  said  to  you :  "  The  figures  belong  so  com- 
pletely to  the  trees,  and  the  trees  to  the  figures,  that  we  see 
that  they  breathe  the  same  air."  Paul  Veronese,  beneath 
those  brilliant  porticos,  possesses,  in  an  eminent  degree,  this 
quality  of  atmosphere.  The  one  formed  his  impressions 
while  following  with  his  eyes,  his  personages  frolicking  in 
the  gardens  of  le  Notre  ;  the  other,  while  watching  the  forma- 
tion of  groups  under  the  magnificent  colonnades  of  the  pal- 
ace. We  feel  that  their  figures  never  came  to  them  isolated 
from  then-  background,  and  that  they  have  seen,  in  all  their 
entirety,  the  scenes  that  their  genius  has  reproduced. 

The  grand  dispute  between  colorists  and  drawers  may  be 
settled  thus :  the  former  see  one  corner  of  nature  completely, 
in  its  ensemble,  with  its  lines,  its  color,  its  atmosphere,  and 
out  of  the  whole  they  make  a  poem.     The  latter  see  only 


90 


some  beautiful  lines  liere  for  th.eir  figures,  other  beautiful  lines 
there  for  their  landscape,  and  out  of  these  beautiful  scattered 
debris  they  try  to  make  a  whole.  But  nature  comes  to  claim 
her  rights,  and  says :  "  You  only  put  asunder  what  I  have 
united."  She  desires  to  have  her  pictures  remain  as  she  has 
made  them,  because  she  alone  knows  how  to  make  them, 
and  knows  that  those  which  are  made  without  her  have  not 
anything  of  her.  Her  variety  is  infinite,  but  her  laws  are  the 
same  everywhere  and  in  all  ages.  The  scenes  of  ancient  his- 
tory reappear  to  us  in  modern  history.  It  was  while  seeing 
a  great  worldly  festival  that  Paul  Veronese  imagined  the 
"  Wedding  in  Cana."  It  was  in  the  presence  of  the  beautiful 
Roman  women  suckling  their  infants,  that  Raphael  composed 
his  admirable  Yirgins. 

After  all,  the  subject  is  of  so  little  importance  to  posterity, 
that  artists,  genuine  amateurs,  never  trouble  themselves  about 
it  The  action  is  given  well  or  badly,  the  sentiment  ex- 
pressed well  or  badly,  the  picture  is  fine  or  it  is  ugly.  A 
painter  is  not  a  historian  ;  we  have  books  for  our  instruction. 
A  beautiful  picture  is  like  a  beautiful  woman  :  we  do  not  ask 
her  name  or  her  address,  to  determine  whether  she  is  beauti- 
ful. 

To  return  to  our  subject.  To  commence  by  drawing  and 
grouping  figures  on  white  paper,  without  at  the  same  time 
making  the  background  on  which  they  are  to  stand  out  and 
live,  is  to  commit  an  absurdity,  is  to  build  in  the  air.  Has 
God  commenced  by  creating  man  and  the  animals  before 
creating  the  earth  ?  The  background  is  to  the  figures  in  a 
picture  what  the  earth  is  to  man :  they  cannot  be  isolated 


HARMONY    OF   COLOES   I]S'   COMPOSITIO:^".  91 

one  from  the  other.  Do  your  friends  ever  appear  to  you  in 
empty  space  ?  When  you  think  of  them,  you  always  picture 
them  to  yourself  as  being  in  some  place  or  other,  engaged  in 
some  act  or  other ;  thus  it  is  that  the  figures  of  a  picture 
should  present  themselves  to  your  daughters.  This  memory 
I  have  trained  in  them  has  opened  their  eyes,  doubtless 
without  their  being  aware  of  it,  to  the  relations  of  all  objects 
to  one  another.  The  color  of  harmony,  the  color  of  reflec- 
tion, will  be  sure  to  strike  them,  in  consequence  of  the  habit 
I  have  taught  them  of  composing  the  figures  in  front  of  the 
background,  instead  of  composing  the  background  behind 
the  figures.  In  this  way  they  have  attained,  in  the  most 
natural  manner,  the  science  of  sketching,  the  object  of  our 
studies,  the  one  that  I  have  had  in  view  ever  since  my  first 
lesson,  and  towards  which  I  have  constantly  conducted  them 
step  by  step. 

I  said,  in  my  last  lesson,  that  they  ought  to  dress  their 
sketches  with  art  and  good  taste,  as  they  dress  themselves. 
I  should  have  said,  as  you  dress  them,  you,  who  could  give 
every  mother  lessons  on  the  art  of  dressing  her  children 
gracefully,  without  overloading  them  with  useless  trinkets 
that  give  them  the  appearance  of  learned  poodles.  How 
many  painters  fall  into  this  error,  through  trying  to  embellish 
their  sketches !  They  make  a  cheap  jewelry  shop  of  them, 
that  bears  no  resemblance  to  anything.  Let  us  urge  them  to 
greater  simplicity;  but  let  us  be  lenient  to  them,  for  the 
sketch  is  the  artist's  well-beloved  daughter.  He  creates  it 
with  passion,  he  adorns  it  with  tenderness,  as  a  mother  orna- 
ments her  daughter  when  she  expects  the  young  man  for 


92  cave's   MAiq-UAL    OF   COLOR. 

whom  she  has  destined  her.  The  painter's  sketch  has  a 
somewhat  similar  destination:  it  awaits  the  amateur. 

Since  I  am  initiating  you  into  the  mysteries  of  painting, 
I  cannot  refrain  from  telling  you  what  an  amateur  is.  I  have 
been  assured  that,  since  the  fortunate  February  revolution, 
there  are  scarcely  any  more  of  them  to  be  seen,  and  that  per- 
haps the  species  will  become  extinct.    That  would  be  a  pity. 

An  amateur  is  not  a  great  lord  rolling  in  wealth  because 
his  ancestors  deserved  to  be  hung,  who,  through  vanity,  scat- 
ters his  money  among  artists  in  order  to  purchase  the  title  of 
protector  of  the  arts  ;  not  the  habitue  of  the  Stock  Exchange, 
who,  when  stocks  are  rising,  gets  up  a  museum,  only  to  sell 
it  in  the  rue  des  jeuneurs  when  the  market  falls.  No,  those 
fellows  are  easily  recognized :  they  enter  the  artist's  studio 
making  a  great  fuss,  higgle  over  everything,  even  to  the  frames, 
and  pay  liberally  but  insolently.  With  reluctance  does  the 
artist  deliver  up  his  works  to  them.  But  who  is  that  man, 
hitherto  unobserved,  who  has  got  into  the  studio,  no  one 
knows  how  or  when,  and  who  seems  to  be  at  home  ?  An 
amateur.  He  does  not  visit  every  painter.  There  are  only 
three  or  four  whom  he  fancies,  and  whose  works  he  seeks 
after,  either  at  their  studios  or  at  sales.  With  what  scruti- 
nizing attention  does  he  let  his  eye  wander  from  the  finished 
picture  to  the  picture  begun,  from  the  picture  begun  to  the 
sketch !  What  joy  he  feels  at  meeting  with  a  successful  first 
croquis  !  It  is  a  God-send.  "  Do  not  put  another  touch  to 
it,"  be  says  to  the  painter ;  "  you  would  only  spoil  it."  And  he 
takes  possession  of  it,  in  consideration  of  a  few  gold  pieces 
that  the  artist  does  not  count,  and  he  hastens  to  hang  it  up  in 


THE    SKETCH.  93 

his  cabinet,  taking  great  pains  to  put  it  in  a  good  liglit,  and 
so  that  it  will  harmonize  with  the  other  marvels  that  sur- 
round it :  for  on  no  account  whatever  would  he  sacrifice  one 
of  them  to  another.  He  loves  them  all  with  the  affection  of 
a  father  or  a  lover.  Since  we  are  admitted  into  the  sanctuary, 
let  us  cast  our  eyes  about  us.  No  luxury ;  only  a  few  objects  of 
antiquity,  or  some  old  tapestry,  that  merely  serve  to  give  re- 
lief to  the  objects  of  his  worship.  How  neat  and  well  arranged 
everything  is !  Are  you  astonished,  then,  that  the  amateur's 
wife  should  be  jealous  of  his  collection?  Are  you  astonished 
that  he  should  rise  from  his  lunch  precipitately  about  one 
o'clock,  in  a  panic  lest  the  servant  might  not  have  closed  a 
shutter  and  the  sun  should  come  in  and  devour  one  of  his 
little  chefs-d'cBuvref  He  will  console  himself  by  admiring 
their  beauties  once  more :  that  is  his  happiness.  And  while 
we  are  here,  let  us  be  careful  not  to  evince  any  too  great  com- 
posure, to  speak  of  things  outside,  or  to  see  any  defects.  He 
would  hold  us  in  sovereign  contempt,  and  his  doors  would  be 
shut  on  us  for  ever.  The  poorer  he  is,  the  greater  the  sacri- 
fices he  has  made  to  gratify  his  passion.  Let  us  not  disturb 
his  delight :  all  passion  is  ferocious. 

He  would  not  have  this  sensitiveness  towards  the  painter. 
Between  them  there  is  an  inexplicable  bond  of  union.  De- 
fine, if  you  can,  this  irresistible  feeling  which  causes  one  man 
to  attach  himself  to  another,  to  give  an  almost  exclusive 
preference  to  his  works,  to  pass  entire  hours  in  watching  him 
at  work,  following  with  his  eye  every  movement  of  his  brush, 
and  holding  his  breath  so  as  not  to  disturb  him.  If  the  artist 
were  to  permit  it,  the  amateur  would  follow  him  like  his 


94  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

shadow,  and  end  by  making  himself  a  sharer  in  all  his  happy 
or  unhappy  emotions. 

I  understand  perfectly  the  pleasure  that  one  who  is  not 
an  amateur  finds  in  watching  a  man  of  talent  work.  We  are 
present  at  an  act  of  creation.  It  is  a  beautiful  dream  that  we 
pass  through  wide  awake.  Louis  Philippe  often  indulged  in 
this  pastime,  but  not  in  silence.  He  was  fond  of  giving  ad- 
vice to  the  artists,  readily  sacrificing  the  picturesque  part  of  a 
picture  to  historical  accuracy. 

People  know  that  the  Emperor  of  Russia  takes  great  de- 
light in  seeing  Horace  Yernet  work. 

But  there  is  one  thing  that  they  do  not  know ;  would 
Horace  Vernet  have  given  his  talent  to  be  Emperor  of  Rus- 
sia or  King  of  the. French?  Would  the  Emperor  of  Russia 
or  Louis  Philippe  have  exchanged  their  crown  for  the  talent 
of  Horace  Yernet  ? 

This  much  is  sure,  that  Horace  Yernet  has  experienced 
more  pleasure  and  less  ennui,  that  his  kingdom  is  secure 
from  revolutions  and  the  ingratitude  of  nations.  Happy 
privilege  of  the  arts !  Nor  is  this  the  only  one.  However 
great  Alexander  and  Francis  I.  may  have  been,  they  have 
left  fewer  souvenirs  than  Raphael  and  Titian ;  and  if  we  go 
back  still  further,  what  are  the  heroes  of  the  Iliad  along-side 
of  him  who  has  sung  them  ?  M.  fi.  C. 

P.  8. — I  have  made  you  fully  recognize  all  the  difficulty 
there  is  in  reducing  the  tones  of  the  models  who  sit  in  your 
studio  to  the  tones  that  you  have  given  them  in  your  sketch, 
but  I  have  forgotten  to  teach  you  the  means  of  overcoming 


THE    SKETCH.  95 

this  difficulty.  An  instance.  If  you  have  an  open-air  back- 
ground, it  is  impossible  for  the  walls  of  your  studio  to  pro- 
duce on  your  model  all  the  reflections  from  the  sky  and  the 
trees  that  must  be  cut  upon  your  figures,  and  which  your 
daughters  have  noticed  in  their  sketch.  Here  is  the -rule. 
Take  pieces  of  white,  yellow,  green,  and  other  satin,  and  ar- 
range them  so  as  to  reflect  your  model  in  the  tones  of  the 
sketch.  By  this  process  I  have  always  obtained  all  the 
tones  that  I  found  in  nature. 


96 


EIGHTEENTH   LETTER 

PAINTING  IN  OILS. 

Let  us  begin,  my  dear  Julia,  by  saying  that  colors  in  tubes 
are  more  convenient  than  colors  in  bladders. 

The  principal  colors  are  the  same  as  those  in  water-colors, 
and  they  must  be  well  studied  and  known  before  any  new 
ones  are  added. 

You  see  Mary  has  made  herself  quite  familiar  with  all  the 
tones,  by  making  water-colors  from  oil-paintings. 

I  shall  now  say  to  her :  Make  your  studies  in  oils  from 
water-colors,  in  order  to  understand  well  the  tones  and  their 
value  in  the  shadow. 

But,  in  the  next  place,  Mary  must  devote  her  entire  intel- 
ligence, her  entire  skill,  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  two  meth- 
ods of  painting ;  let  her  consider  well  which  of  the  two  is 
more  in  accordance  with  her  taste.  I  shall  always  say  to 
young  girls  who  are  intending  to  marry :  Select  water-colors, 
because  you  will  never  give  them  up,  because  they  are 
cleanly  work,  because  you  can  paint  an  hour,  a  half-hour. 
The  palette  is  always  ready,  and  does  not  dry,  while  oil- 
painting  calls  for  at  least  three  hours  without  interruption, 
and  the  palette,  when  once  changed,  is  lost  unless  used. 

I  repeat :  if  you  wish  to  have  a  genuine  talent,  take  your 
choice,  do  not  seek  to  excel  in  both ;  it  is  too  difficult  to  be 


PAII^TING   rN-    OILS.  97 

incessantly  changing  one's  palette,  one's  brush,  consequently 
one's  way  of  paiuting.  But .  remember,  if  you  adopt  oil- 
painting,  that  you  must  always  continue  to  make  your 
sketches  in  water-colors,  in  order  to  have  a  free  and  decided 
cMaro-oscuro. 

However,  it  is  needless  to  say  this  to  Mary ;  a  conscientious 
pupil  of  my  method,  the  contrary  will  never  occur  to  her. 
As  soon  as  she  has  understood  the  art  of  making  a  picture  in 
charcoal,  the  art  of  reproducing  it  in  color  without  changing 
the  cJiiaro-oscuro^  without  altering  the  arrangement  of  the 
light,  she  is  born  with  the  sense  of  composition  and  color, 
she  will  become  a  painter,  I  have  no  doubt  of  it. 

I  shall  only  say  to  her  that  there  is  nothing  more  useful, 
when  one  wishes  to  attain  to  genuine  talent  as  a  water-color- 
ist,  than  to  make  rough  draughts  in  oils. 

I  ^m  going  to  give  her,  then,  the  first  principles  of  the 
method  of  painting  in  oils ;  with  these  principles,  she  will 
make  draughts  only,  if  she  decides  upon  being  a  water-color- 
ist.  If,  on  the  contrary,  she  wishes  to  make  oil-painting  a 
serious  study,  she  can,  with  this  method,  perfect  it,  to  her 
heart's  content ;  but,  by  devoting  all  her  time,  all  her  skill, 
and  all  her  intelligence. 

A  draught  is  not  a  draught  because  it  is  done  quickly ; 
at  that  rate,  the  greater  part  of  the  Yelasquez,  the  Rubenses, 
the  Paul  Yeroneses,  and  even  the  Raphaels  would  be 
draughts. 

My  profile,  made  by  M.  Ingres,  would  be  a  draught ;  he 
made  it  in  an  hour,  and,  nevertheless,  it  is  one  of  his  master- 
pieces. 

5 


98  c aye's  manual  of  coloe. 

Time  counts  for  notliing  in  a  work,  there  must  be  knowl- 
edge and  inspiration. 

You  must  work  seriously,  then,  not  straying  continually 
from  oil-painting  to  water-colors,  otherwise  you  will  make 
nothing  but  sketches;  finish,  skill,  are  acquired  only  by 
means  of  a  continuous  succession  of  experiments  in  the  same 
direction,  upon  the  same  thing. 

This  being  settled,  let  us  return  to  oil-painting ;  I  say  to 
Mary,  then : 

You  must  choose  canvas  that  is  fine-grained  but  primed 
dull,  not  shining. 

On  this  canvas  you  will  draw  in  ink  what  you  wish  to 
paint. 

In  order  to  paint,  you  must  buy  hair-pencils  and  brushes  ; 
the  pencil  pointed  and  flat,  the  brushes  pointed  and  flat,  two 
or  three  blender  brushes ;  difi'erent  sizes  of  each. 

In  order  to  accustom  yourself  to  the  brushes  and  oil-color, 
you  will  first  paint  a  head  in  monochrome  camaleu.  As  I 
have  accustomed  you  to  washing-in  a  single  tone,  so  you 
must  accustom  yourself  to  impasting  in  a  single  tone.  You 
must  get  the  knack  of  the  easel  and  the  maul-stick.  For  the 
canvas  is  placed  right  before  you  on  your  easel,  and  you  lean 
upon  the  maul-stick  to  steady  yourself.  By  occasionally 
putting  the  end  of  the  maul-stick  on  the  canvas  or  the  easel, 
you  can  spare  yourself  some  fatigue.  To  take  one's  position 
well  is  itself  a  study,  but  a  study  that  experience  only  can 
give ;  so  also  the  handling  of  the  brushes,  the  appropriate 
selection  of  them  according  to  one's  native  skill,  is  a  study 
and  an  experience. 


PAINTII^^G   IN-    OILS.  99 

Do  I  need  to  tell  you  that,  in  order  to  draw  the  lines,  you 
must  take  a  pointed  brush  ;  to  model,  a  flat  brush  ? 

Your  lines  having  been  drawn  in  ink,  you  will  pass  over 
the  whole  canvas  burnt  sienna  mixed  with  fatty  oil ;  for  it  is 
difficult  to  learn  to  model  upon  white  canvas. 

This  preparation  well  dried,  you  make  your  monochrome 
tones  from  an  engraved  head  or  a  plaster  model ;  the  half- 
tint,  the  shadow  of  reflection,  and  the  shadow  of  projection, 
and  the  pure  white  for  the  light. 

With  these  four  tones  you  can  learn  to  model  by  painting. 

You  set  about  it  in  the  manner  I  am  going  to  tell  you : 

You  pass  the  tone  of  the  half-tint  over  the  whole  figure, 
laying  it  on  lightly  where  there  are  lines. 

You  take  the  lightest  shadow-tone  and  you  go  to  work  on 
the  masses  of  shadow ;  you  next  take  the  white  and  go  to 
work  on  the  light,  leaving  the  half- tint  where  it  is  to  remain. 

You  draw  your  lines  in  the  paste.  But  the  difficulty  lies 
in  uniting  all  this  together,  with  a  flat  brush,  preserving  the 
direction  of  the  drawing  and  the  modelling. 

When,  in  your  modelling,  you  have  joined  the  light  with 
the  half-tint,  you  go  over  your  bright  lights  with  pure  white, 
and  you  soften  this  light  again,  on  the  edges,  with  your  flat 
brush. 

In  the  same  way  you  restore  vigor  to  the  shadows  that 
you  have  weakened  while  modelling ;  and  finally,  at  the  very 
last,  you  put  your  bold  shadows  under  the  nose,  in  the  corner 
of  the  nose  and  the  eye. 

You  then  put  all  the  half-tint  on  the  hair,  you  fix  your 
light  correctly,  and  you  go  to  work  on  the  shadows. 


100  caye's  manual  of  colou. 

You  see,  my  dear  Mary,  that  the  study  of  shadow,  hidf- 
tint,  and  light  that  you  have  made,  first  with  the  charcoal, 
secondly  by  washing,  are  now  becoming  most  invaluable  to 
you. 

You  know  how  to  model.  This  is  for  you  only  a  change 
of  material.    It  is  only  your  skill  that  you  have  to  exercise. 

In  a  word,  you  know  the  art  of  modelling ;  you  must 
practice  yourself  in  expressing  your  thought  by  a  new  handi- 
craft. 

I  leave  you,  then,  to  handle  your  oil-color  in  monochrome, 
before  speaking  to  you  of  color. 

You  must  have  seen  by  the  difference  in  process  that  I 
have  made  between  the  hair  and  the  figure,  that  it  would 
answer  equally  well  to  put  the  lights  first  on  the  half-tint,  or 
else  to  commence  by  attacking  the  shadows. 

In  beginning  with  the  light,  you  follow  altogether  the  plan 
of  charcoal-drawing  and  washing,  which  commence  by  show- 
ing the  half-tint  and  the  light. 

You  must  try  to  find  out  what  is  easiest,  and  make  and 
re-make  until  you  succeed,  without  becoming  discouraged ; 
for,  if  the  first  production  is  tolerable,  very  good ;  if  it  is  poor, 
that  is  only  to  be  expected,  the  usual  way  of  things. 

For  the  draperies,  furniture,  pottery,  the  half-tint  over  the 
whole  object,  same  repetition  ;  the  light  well  arranged,  and 
the  shadows  afterwards. 

Do  your  monochroming,  then,  courageously,  and  make  an 
entire  picture  ;  dabble  in  it ;  do  not  seek  to  make  a  finished 
production,  but  a  rough  draught ;  and  by  making  draught  after 
draught  you  will  acquire  the  art  of  finishing.        M.  ^.  C. 


PAINTING   IN    OILS.  10] 


]st:neteenth  letter. 

PAINTING  IN  OILS  CONTINUED— COLOEED  COLOES. 

From  oil-color  without  color  let  us  pass  to  oil-color  with 
color. 

You  still  prepare  the  canvas  with  sienna,  as  soon  as  you 
have  drawn  the  design  in  ink. 

As  soon  as  the  drawing  is  thoroughly  dry,  pass  over  the 
entire  canvas  a  layer  of  burnt  sienna  with  fatty  oil,  and  let 
it  dry  well. 

Do  not  think  that  this  preparation  repels  the  color  and 
renders  it  black  in  time.  No.  The  pictures  that  I  rough- 
draughted  fifteen  years  ago  have  become  bolder,  but  they  are 
not  black. 

Moreover,  it  was  the  unfinished  pictures  of  Eubens  and 
Greuze  that  led  me  to  discover  the  processes  that  I  have  em- 
ployed, and  that  I  am  going  to  transmit  to  you. 

Let  us  take  the  flesh-tints  to  begin  with.  This  blue  tone 
of  half-tint,  that  you  make  with  indigo  in  water-colors,  you 
make  in  oil-colors  with  white,  cobalt  blue,  and  a  little 
ivory-black,  which  you  take  darker  or  lighter  according  as 
the  flesh-tint  is  blonde  or  brunette  ;  finally,  you  must  hunt  for 
the  tone  of  the  half-tint  of  the  very  complexion  that  you  are 
copying. 

Having  found  the  half-tint,  you  pass  it  over  all  that  part 


102    '  C aye's   MAisTUAL    OF    COLOR. 

that  you  wish  to  paint  during  your  sitting.  Let  us  take  a 
head.  Where  you  come  to  a  line,  you  put  it  on  thinner,  so 
as  not  to  lose  the  line  altogether. 

Then  you  take,  as  in  water-colors,  burnt  sienna  and  Na- 
ples yellow,  and  you  attack  boldly,  over  your  half-tint,  all  the 
shadow-parts.  Bright  yellow  and  yellow  ochre  may  also  be 
used  with  burnt  sienna,  according  as  the  shadows  are  warmer 
or  greener.  It  is  a  matter  of  trial  and  experiment,  as  in  water- 
colors. 

You  always  draw  your  lines  in  the  paste,  with  red  brown 
and  cobalt  blue.  This  being  disposed  of,  you  have  a  pink 
flesh-tone  that  you  place  over  the  half-tint  on  the  side  where 
the  light  is,  leaving,  however,  a  slight  half-tint  between  this 
pink  light  and  the  tone  of  the  shadow. 

You  see  that  you  are  following  the  principles  of  water- 
colors. 

With  a  flat  brush  you  model  these  tones  as  you  modelled 
the  gray  tones,  always  in  the  direction  of  the  form. 

Sometimes  you  can  make  use,  lightly,  of  little  blender- 
brushes  ;  but  you  must  be  on  your  guard  against  them,  if 
they  tend  to  make  the  work  soft  and  round.  On  that  account 
I  prefer  the  hair-pencil  and  the  flat  brush. 

And  now  you  are  to  put  on  the  grand  light  of  the  flesh- 
tint.  It  is  made  with  white  and  with  yellow  ochre,  and  by 
joining  it  skilfully  to  the  rose  tone,  you  will  model  admira- 
bly, and  you  will  find  live  flesh-tints  like  those  of  Rubens 
and  Greuze. 

The  rose  of  the  lips  and  the  cheeks  you  leave  to  the  last, 
as  also  the  bold  parts  under  the  nose  and  in  the  eyes  ;  these 


PAi:N^TrN'G   IIS"    OILS.  ■  103 

are  made  with  lakes  and  yellow  ochre.  You  put  the  half- 
tint  of  your  hair  over  all  the  hair,  then  you  attack  the  shad- 
ow and  the  light:  precisely  the  same  tones  as  in  water- 
colors. 

You  know  them,  then ;  you  have  handled  the  brush  enough 
in  painting  hair  in  monochrome  to  have  found  out  how  im- 
portant it  is  to  have  the  stroke  of  the  brush  in  the  direction 
of  the  head  or  the  lock,  how  much  delicacy  is  required  for 
the  roots  of  the  hair  along  the  forehead. 

When  the  head  is  dressed,  you  come  back  to  drawing 
your  lines,  which  are  always  indented  inwards ;  that  is  why, 
with  this  manner  of  painting,  you  will  make  your  work  firm 
and  soft  at  the  same  time. 

For  everything  that  you  wish  to  paint,  the  same  system : 
always  spread  the  half-tint  over  all  the  part  that  you  wish  to 
paint.  These  half-tints  are  the  same  as  those  in  water-colors, 
always  the  opposites  to  the  light ;  you  know  them  as  well  as 
I  do,  since  you  are  acquainted  with  all  the  values  of  the 
tones. 

For  objects  and  persons  in  the  background,  water-colors 
also  teach  you  that  you  must  put  ivory-black  in  the  white 
that  you  use.  So,  no  more  white  on  your  palette  as  soon  as 
you  attack  your  background,  graduated  gray  tones  taking 
the  place  of  the  white,  and  mixing  themselves  with  all  the 
colors. 

The  further  off  the  things  are,  the  more  you  must  force 
the  gray  tone. 

Now  understand  me  perfectly.  You  paint  with  the  same 
colors  as  in  the  light,  you  put  on  the  same  light ;  only,  in 


104  cave's  manual  of  coloe. 

proportion  as  the  objects  recede,  your  luminous  white 
becomes  more  and  more  gray. 

This  gray  white  is  the  shadow,  the  atmosphere,  growing 
more  and  more  dense  between  yourself  and  your  figures  in 
proportion  as  you  multiply  the  perceptive  planes  of  your 
picture. 

Do  you  now  understand  how  the  monochrome  modellings 
that  you  have  made  will  be  of  service  to  you  ? 

Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  Prudhon  have  sometimes  let  their 
monochromes  dry,  and  painted  by  glazing ;  but  I  am  not  ac- 
quainted with  that  system. 

Only,  you  must  see  that  colorists  are  not  afraid  of  the 
gray,  for  the  Endymion  of  Correggio  may  be  admirably 
copied  in  this  way. 

Odd,  is  it  not,  to  put  so  much  gray  in  a  blonde  and  gold- 
en picture  like  the  one  I  am  trying  to  make  ?  Well,  the 
secret  of  making  the  picture  blonde  and  golden  in  the  back- 
ground is  to  employ  the  gray  underneath  the  shadows  and 
the  lights. 

For  the  background  of  a  room,  the  same  process.  A  white 
wall  is  never  white  in  the  background,  in  the  light  of  the 
white.    If  you  have  a  stone  in  the  foreground,  that  is  white. 

In  the  same  way  the  most  brilliant  clouds  are  never  white. 
But  the  water-colors  that  you  have  made,  to  begin  with,  and 
the  monochromes  you  have  painted  afterwards,  have  given 
you  all  these  lessons. 

If  you  have  any  black  depths,  you  know  also  that  you 
must  use  red  brown  and  cobalt  blue,  or  else  indigo  ;  Naples 
yellow  and  ivory-black  mixed  will  accomplish  wonders. 


PAINTING  IN    OIL.  105 

Remember  that  crude  lakes,  however  dark  they  may  be, 
always  advance.  Transparent  colors  recede  only  in  glazing 
over  grays. 

Painting  on  ivory,  on  earthen-ware,  on  porcelain,  can  al- 
ways keep  abreast  with  water-colors.  You  have  only  to  take 
a  few  lessons  from  the  first  artists  in  this  line,  to  learn  the 
trade  ;  but  you  must  not  change  these  principles  of  color  in 
any  respect. 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  my  two  large  water-colors, 
the  "  Tournament,"  and  the  "  ConTalescence  of  Louis  XIII. 
in  Childhood,"  have  been  placed  in  the  gallery  of  the  Luxem- 
bourg. 

That  is  the  place  to  find  the  truth  of  what  I  am  teaching 
you,  on  throwing  the  figures  in  shadow,  and  making  the 
background  recede.  M.  tl.  C. 


5* 


-A', 


106  c aye's  manual  of  color. 


TWENTIETH   LETTER 

SERIOUS  WOMEN— TRIFLING  WOMEN. 

One  more  word,  my  dear  Julia,  before  closing  this  corre- 
spondence, which  has  put  me  to  some  trouble,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  I  shall  not  leave  oflF  without  a  certain  feeling 
of  regret;  for  the  labor  that  we  have  undertaken  for  our 
friends  has  about  it  a  charm,  which  grows  in  attractiveness. 
But  what  could  I  say  further?  Besides,  I  have  found  for 
myself  occupations  that  consume  all  my  leisure  ;  and,  as  you 
know,  I  am  not  a  writer;  I  do  not  even  like  the  art  in 
woman,  who  has  no  motive  for  publishing  her  thoughts  and 
sentiments  ;  who  should,  on  the  contrary,  sacredly  seclude  her 
life  in  that  mystery  of  intimacy  for  which  she  is  born.  I  have 
written  these  letters  only  in  an  effort  of  friendship  for  you 
and  your  dear  daughters.  The  publicity  they  have  met  with 
has  embarrassed  me  somewhat.  I  have  received  congratula- 
tions that  flattered  me,  no  doubt  (for  they  come  from  artists 
whom  I  admire),  but  which  would  have  been  rather  oppres- 
sive than  agreeable,  had  I  not  been  free  to  believe  that  they 
were  more  especially  addressed  to  the  painter,  and  I  am  noth- 
ing more. 

They  have  seen  that,  however,  without  my  telling  them. 
I  wish  to  bear  in  mind  that  I  took  up  my  pen  only  to  excuse 
myself  for  having  taken  it  up,  and  to  demand  pardon  for  my 


SERIOUS   WOMEIf.  107 

complete  igaorance  of  the  art  of  writing.  Have  I  expressed 
myself  clearly  ?  That  is  all  I  desire.  Let  people  say  that 
my  method  has  nothing  methodical  about  it,  that  my 
thought  wanders,  that  I  often  come  back  to  the  same  ideas, 
as  in  conversing  or  teaching — they  will  not  hurt  my  feelings. 
On  the  contrary,  they  will  judge  of  me  just  as  I  am,  just  as  I 
wished  to  appear.  I  might  have  worked  on  my  letters  with 
greater  care,  or  resorted  to  some  practiced  pen,  so  as  to  ac- 
quire an  usurped  reputation.  Why  should  I  have  done  so  ? 
Would  my  pupils  have  been  any  better  taught  ?  Would  I 
have  painted  any  better  pictures  ?  I  should  have  followed  an 
aim  foreign  to  me. 

I  like  painting  above  all  things.  I  like  it  better  than 
music,  because  it  permits  a  woman  to  remain  at  home,  because 
it  does  not  require  a  public  and  a  theatre.  The  woman  who 
is  a  musician  must  have  a  little  of  the  audacity  of  the  come- 
dienne; she  must  expose  herself,  like  the  actress.  With 
painting,  however,  we  need  never  emerge  from  that  modesty 
which  is  one  of  the  virtues  and  charms  of  our  sex. 

Still,  we  must  not  misuse  the  word  modesty  as  the  word 
equality  is  misused.  There  is,  in  certain  circles,  a  tendency 
to  wish  that  woman  should  not  be  anything  more  than  a 
doll,  pleasing  her  husband  and  taking  the  part  of  mother  for 
his  children.  This  is  not  my  understanding  of  it.  I  desire 
for  her  a  more  useful  part,  one  worthier  of  her,  more  re- 
spectable. Woman  should  be  the  intelligent  companion  of 
man,  that  is  to  say,  his  associate  in  the  ofttimes  painful 
struggles  of  life,  his  supporter,  his  counsellor,  his  consoler. 
She  should  be  for  his  children  not  merely  a  well-dressed  idol, 


108 


that  tliey  are  to  come  and  kiss  evenings  and  mornings,  not  a 
box  of  sugar-plums,  but  a  vigilant  guardian  and  an  attentive 
physician,  the  professor  of  all  that  is  learned  at  the  home 
fireside.  I  wish  her  to  be  like  the  gardener  who  raises  a 
choice  shrub,  protecting  it  from  frost  aud  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
pruning  it,  cleaning  it  of  weeds,  straightening  it,  giving  it, 
in  short,  all  the  vigor  and  all  the  beauty  that  it  can  acquire. 

I  wish  still  more ;  I  wish  her  to  take  pride  in  this  noble 
mission  on  earth.  How  can  an  idle  and  useless  woman  re- 
spect herself  and  be  respected  ?  And  who  would  dare  not  to 
respect  the  woman  and  mother  as  I  have  described  her  ? 

That  is  a  reasonable  pride.  Not  that  fault  which  caused 
the  loss  of  the  fallen  angels,  that  exaggerated  feeling  of  one's 
own  worth  which  leads  us  to  over-estimate  ourselves  and  to 
wish  to  domineer  others — an  error  that  is  punished  sooner  or 
later,  that  produces  so  many  faults,  so  many  deceptions  and 
evils.  But  that  virtue  without  affectation,  that  gives  us  the 
will  and  the  com'age  to  be  worth  something,  to  be  useful  in 
our  lot,  and  beyond  it,  if  possible ;  that  calm  strength  and 
that  serene  conscience  before  which  the  boldest  recoil.  Let 
us  respect  om'selves,  and  idle  talk  will  not  come  and  buzz  in 
our  ears. 

People  generally  say :  "  Women  are  trifling."  They 
should  have  limited  themselves  to  saying  :  "  There  are  tri- 
fling women."  How  many  women,  how  many  mothers  of 
families,  could  smile  with  pity  at  this  word. 

"We  must  come  to  an  understanding  about  this  word  tri- 
fling, that  is  flung  in  our  faces. 

If  a  pretty  young  person,  adorned  with  her  natural  beauty 


TRIFLING   WOMElSr.  109 

and  all  tliat  fashion  knows  liow  to  add  to  it,  enters  a  parlor 
gracefully ;  if  slie  sits  down  with  a  smile  and  enters  into  a 
lively  interchange  of  th6..e  thousand  little  nothings  that  make 
up  the  substance  of  conversation  in  society ;  if,  at  the  first 
tap  of  the  bow,  she  flies  away  like  a  bird,  whirling  on  the 
arm  of  a  cavalier  with  that  expression  of  pleasure  which  is 
so  becoming  to  youth,  without  which  we  might  say  there 
was  no  youth,  you  exclaim :    "  A  trifling  woman  ! " 

You  are  very  trifling  yourself  Trifling  !  What  do  you 
know  about  it  ? 

In  society  she  is  just  what  she  should  be,  natural,  charm- 
ing, elegant ;  in  a  word,  a  woman. 

But,  on  the  morrow  of  the  ball,  get  access  to  her  home, 
come  and  sit  down  by  her  fireside.  You  will  find  her  up 
early,  having  already  laid  aside  the  flowers  of  the  night  be- 
fore, and  given  her  first  attention  to  her  beautiful  children. 
She  receives  you  in  a  toilette  that  is  simple  and  elegant,  like 
the  apartments  in  which  she  resides.  Speak  to  her  on  serious 
matters,  she  listens  to  you  with  attention,  and  you  are  not  a 
little  surprised  at  the  good  sense  of  her  answers.  Is  this  not 
enough  to  jiake  you  blush  for  your  prejudice  ?  Well,  look 
around  you ;  do  you  not  see,  ofi"  there,  near  the  window,  a 
palette  and  brushes  ?  That  water-color  is  our  work.  An  ama- 
teur bought  it,  and  it  paid  for  our  last  night's  toilette,  for  we 
are  not  rich.  That  other  one  will  give  our  husband  a  hand- 
some pony  that  he  regrets  not  being  able  to  buy.  As  to  that 
pastel,  it  is  going  to  enrich  a  lottery  for  the  benefit  of  the 
poor  mothers  of  the  ward. 

I  do  not  say  all  I  might,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  be  accused 


110  cave's  manual  of  color. 

of  vaunting  my  sex  and  soliciting  Monty  on -prizes  for  it.  But 
how  many  cruel  sufferings  I  could  cite,  borne  without  mur- 
mur and  with  a  smiling  face !  What  long,  unrecognized  de- 
votion, without  any  other  prospect  than  ingratitude !  Oh  ! 
women  are  trifling  ! 

Let  us  be  on  our  guard,  however,  my  dear  Julia,  against 
presuming  too  much  on  ourselves,  and  let  us  be  what  we  can 
be,  and  keep  our  places.  Men  really  love  us  only  for  what 
we  are  worth.  A  puerile  book  has  been  written  on  the  art 
of  pleasing ;  no  one  has  ever  thought  of  the  art  of  making 
one's  self  beloved.  If  it  should  happen  that  I  were  obliged  to 
give  up  painting,  I  should  publish  some  letters  on  this  subject. 

I  have  decided  to  publish  the  third  part  of  this  work, 
under  the  title :  "  The  Woman  of  To-Day,  the  Woman  of 
Yesterday."  It  will  be  the  resume  of  my  meditation  on  the 
necessity  of  turning  our  attention  to  woman.* 

MAEIE-ELISABETH  CAy:E. 

*  After  no  little  hesitation,  I  offer  the  above  as  a  conjectural  rendering 
of  the  original :  "  surla  necessite  de  s'occuper  de  lafernme.''''  It  may  mean 
"  The  need  of  occupation  for  woman." — Tk. 


COLORS  FOR  THE  PALETTE. 


These  colors  can  be  had  in  leaden  tubes,  like  oil-colors. 

In  this  way  they  do  not  dry,  and  they  can  be  put  on  the 
paper  as  clear  and  as  thick  as  may  be  desired. 

Pastilles  have  this  inconvenience :  they  come  unglued, 
and  if  you  are  so  unlucky  as  to  drop  your  palette,  they  will 
break,  because  they  dry  so  far  as  to  lose  their  transparency. 

Of  course,  if  you  find  an  unusual  tone  that  is  not  put 
down  here,  you  must  use  it ;  for  the  richness  of  your  palette 
will  not  do  any  harm  when  you  are  very  familiar  with  the 
first  necessary  colors. 

You  must  first  familiarize  yourself  with  these  and  be  mis- 
trustful of  the  others  for  the  flesh-tints. 


H 
H 

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o 


^  Hist  oi  ti)t  ^uMimiionB 


OF 


G.    P.    PUTNAM    &    SON, 

66 1  Broadway^  New    York. 


OLTE  (Amely).  MADAME  de  STAEL  ;  A  His- 
torical Novel :  translated  from  the  German  by  Theo. 
Johnson.     i6mo,  cloth  ext.,  $1.50. 

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brings  the  reader  in  contact  with  eminent  personages,  and  entertains  him  in  the 
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ILACKWELL.      STUDIES    IN    GENERAL    SCI- 
ENCE.     By  Antoinette    Brown    Blackwell.      l2mo 
(uniform  with  Child's  "  Benedicite  ").      Cloth  extra, 
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***  A  delightful  story,  which  everybody  will  like. 

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***  "This  is  the  only  method  of  drawiitg-  which  really  teacJies  anything. 
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est, the  result  of  her  observations  upon  the  teaching  of  drawing,  and  the  ingenious 
methods  she  applies,  Madame  Cave  *  *  *  renders  invaluable  service  to  all  who 
have  marked  out  for  themselves  a  career  of  Art." — Extract  from  a  long  review  in 
the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  written  by  Delacroix. 

"  It  is  interesting  and  valuable." —D.  Huntington,  Presi.  Nat.  Acad. 

"  Should  be  used  by  every  teacher  of  Drawing  in  America."— C?Vy  Item,  PhUn. 


New  AND  Final  Volume  of  Bayard  Taylor's  Travels. 


G.  P.  Putnam  &  Son  will  publish  early  in  1869 

BY-WAYS  OF  EUROPE, 

By  the  author  of  "  Views  Afoot,"  "  Home  and  Abroad,"  &c. 


CONTENTS : 
A  Familiar  Letter  to  the  Reader.  The  Grande  Chartreuse. 

A  Cruise  on  Lake  Lagoda.  The  Kyffhauser  and  its  Legends. 

Between  Europe  and  Asia.  A  Week  at  Capri. 

Winter-Life  in  St.   Petersburg.  A  Trip  to  Ischia. 

The  Little  Land  of  Appenzell.  The  Land  of  Paoli. 

From  Perpignan  to  Montserrat.  The  Island  of  Maddalena. 

Balearic  Days.  In  the  Teutsberger  Forest. 

Catalonian  Bridle-Roads.  The  Suabian  Alb. 

The  Republic  of  the  Pyrenees. 

In  one  vol.  lamo.  (uniform  with  his  other  works),  blue  cloth,  $2.25. 


THE  NEW  WEST; 

Or,   California  in  1867   and   '68. 

By  CHARLES  L.  BRACE, 
Author  of  "  Races  of  the  Old  World,"  "  Home-Life  in  Germany,"  "  Hungary  in 
1851,"  &C.     i2mo.     300  pp.    (In  February.) 

This  work  contains  an  account  of  what  till  lately  has  been  a  terra  incognita  to 
Americans  themselves, — the  Pacific  Slope.  Mr.  Brace  in  his  California  journey 
has  described  what  most  travellers  have  omitted,  the  minute  features  of  natural 
scenery  and  products,  the  different  world  of  vegetation,  and  climate,  aad  landscape 
which  characterizes  the  Pacific  coast.  He  has  mvestigated  closely  the  vine-growing 
regions,  and  the  wine-making  of  California ;  its  wonderful  gardens  and  orchards,  the 
new  branch  of  silk-growing  just  beginning,  and  the  remarkable  agricultural  capaci- 
ties of  the  State.  He  pictures  that  wonder  of  the  world,  the  Yosemite  Valley. 
and  the  Giant  Trees,  and  the  Geysers. 

Social  Life,  Schools,  and  Education  are  also  treated,  and  several  chapters  are  given 
to  the  Chinese  in  the  State.  Much  practical  advice  is  given  to  emigrants  and  far- 
mers as  to  where  to  settle  in  California.  Adventures  among  Robbers  and  Digger- 
Indians  are  the  subjects  of  some  of  the  chapters. 

It  is  a  work  which  all  Americans  who  desire  to  understand  their  own  country, 
should  possess.  

A   MEMORIAL   OF  THE   REV.    DR.   TAYLOR. 

SERMONS 

Preached  in  Grace  Church,  New  York.  1846-67,  By  the  late  Rev.  Thomas 
House  Taylor,  D.D.  With  a  fine  Photographic  Portrait  fi-om  Elliott's  Picture.  In 
one  volume.    8vo.    Tinted  Paper.     Price,  $s..-k3. 

*^*  This  volume  is  printed  specially  for  Subscribers  and  Memoers  of  Grace 
Church.  Those  desiring  copies  of  the  First  Edition,  which  will  be  handsomely 
printed,  are  requested  to  send  their  names  at  once. 


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